


Organic Chemistry

by Anonymous



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi was so busy worrying about his drunken one-night stand and STDs that he didn't notice the mischievous glint in Hanji's eyes. That was Mistake Number One.</p><p>Mistake Number Two was falling for an author that also happened to be his new co-worker at the university.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do you know if he has any STDs?

“Vodka shots. Keep them coming,” Eren said as he took a seat at the bar, pulling off his jacket and letting out a deep breath. Hanji raised her eyebrows at him.

“You don’t even like drinking. Besides, you’re—”

“I really need vodka right now, Hanji. Like, really,” he pleaded. She shrugged carelessly and poured him a drink.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No. I want to get drunk and make out and pass out,” he said after he downed his drink.

“There, there,” she comforted as she patted his head.

“More,” he demanded, coughing as the alcohol slightly burned his throat. He hated drinking, god damn it, but he needed something to get over the conversation he had just had with his dipshit of a father.

After he downed his second shot, he started to get lost in the clamor and bustle of the bar; he could feel the beat of the music beating against his skull, and the lights were coloring his vision, and he downed another shot. Hanji was too busy on the job to take care of him, and so Eren left his seat stumbling and eager to forget about fathers and feelings.

He looked around the crowded room, head spinning a little, and he almost tripped on the first step he took.

“You okay, kid?” someone said as Eren struggled to catch himself.

“I’m not a kid!” Eren said, disoriented and overly-defensive. _“You’re just a kid, Eren,"_ his father had said to him.

“Who gets drunk after two shots?” said Levi, scoffing and irritated at the his rudeness. Eren narrowed his eyes at him. Short—that was the first thing that came to mind as Eren looked at him. He had black hair and an undercut, and incredibly sharp eyes that were currently glazed over in drunkenness as well.

“You’re drunk too, dipshit,” Eren bit back.

“Yeah, after my—”

The stranger’s retort was cut off by Eren clutching the front of his shirt and crashing their lips together.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Eren said after they pulled apart. Perhaps in a more sober state he would have cringed at his own cliché, but in this drunken state, the only relevant thoughts swirling in his mind were ones of anger directed at his father and appreciation for the snug pants this man was wearing.

“You’re such a brat,” Levi said as he kissed him anyway. When he felt Eren’s tongue swiping his bottom lip, he dragged him out of the bar into the cold night air. His back against the wall, Eren started working at Levi’s neck, sucking and biting.

“Fuck,” Levi said as he felt the temptation to take this to his apartment. He would normally never do something so reckless—taking a stranger to his apartment and showing him where he lived and having one-night stands with boys who may or may not have STDs—but Eren’s hard kisses and the alcohol destroyed his judgment.

 

—

So when he woke up in his apartment, groaning at the sight of harsh sunlight and one naked boy sprawled out next to him, he promised to never get drunk again.  He kicked the boy lightly in the ribs.

“Get up,” he said.

“Mmmm,” the boy mumbled as he just rolled over to his side, eyes still closed. Levi pushed him over the edge of the bed with his foot and Eren fell to the floor with a yelp.

“What the fuck?” Eren exclaimed. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head, glancing over at Levi, who was naked but covered with sheets. “Oh,” he said as he realized the situation. “Wow.”

“Don’t ‘wow’ me. Put on your damn pants and get out.” Eren rolled his eyes at this and grabbed the pair of jeans he had so carelessly discarded the night before. When he finished getting dressed, Levi practically pushed him out the door.

“That’s no way to treat a one-night stand,” Eren said teasingly, not taking Levi’s attitude too personally. He got a kick out of the irritation on Levi’s face.

“Fuck you,” Levi said as Eren was almost out the door.

“Already did, man. Last night.”

Levi shut the door in his face. Turning around, he let out an annoyed, heavy sigh, trying not to think about the fact that not only did he sleep with a random stranger (“STD” kept ringing in his head), but said stranger looked about 10 years younger than him. The boy was, at the youngest, 22, since he was drinking at the bar. He hoped to god the boy was older than that, though, because sleeping with a bright-eyed 22-year-old when Levi was approaching 30 felt juvenile and mid-life crisis-y.

Eren whistled as he walked down the hall, trying to remember the night he just had with that man. Memories of loud moans and shouts of _“Oh, god”_ filled his mind, and he bit his lip. He really hadn’t planned on having sex last night—just making out or kissing a little. But one thing led to another, and there was something about the way anger and alcohol mixed with him that made him more promiscuous (one reason he normally didn’t drink). He couldn’t tell if it was a bad night or a good one, then. At the very least, he was definitely not thinking about his dipshit father anymore.

 

* * *

 

“Where were you last night?” Mikasa asked Eren, her brows furrowed. She looked him over for any scars or injuries. Mikasa, Eren, and Armin were sitting at a table outside of Café Maria, enjoying coffee drinks at noon. It was sunny and the breeze ruffled their hair. “I kept calling to see how you were doing after your talk with Grisha, and you never answered!”

Eren took a sip of his coffee and shrugged, not wanting to lie to her but not wanting to tell the truth either. Mikasa narrowed her eyes at him.

“Eren!” she said. He looked away.

“I just went to the bar and had a few drinks. That’s all.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking. You’re underage, and you know your alcohol tolerance is low,” Mikasa said, still worried but relieved at the answer. Armin, however, noticed the way Eren licked his lips nervously and stared down at his drink.

“What else happened?” Armin said. Eren shot him a glare.

“Not much,” he said. Armin just continued to look at him skeptically. “Okay, I got drunk and slept with some random guy. Happy?”

Mikasa’s eyes widened and she said, “Did you go back to his place?”

“Yeah,” Eren admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You know how dangerous that is,” she said.

“I know, I know. But I’m fine—see?” Eren said.

“I suppose,” Mikasa said with a sigh. “I hoped you used a condom, at least.”

“Uh… I was pretty drunk,” Eren said. Mikasa almost choked on her drink. “I know, I know: bad decision-making. I'll be more careful from now on.”

“And tell Mikasa next time. You’re giving her high blood pressure,” Armin said with a laugh. Mikasa only frowned.

“So, how’s school going?” Eren asked them, wanting to change the subject.

“Good. My English professor commended me on my last paper and it brought me up to an A in that class,” Armin said with a grin. “Thanks for helping me edit it. I’m really feeling the perks of having an author for a friend.”

Eren laughed. “No problem. What about you, Mikasa?”

“School is fine. I’m glad we’ll be seeing you there now,” Mikasa said. They all smiled at each other, knowing that they would see each other even more for the next year. Eren had been invited by the prestigious Shiganshina University (where Armin and Mikasa attended) as a visiting scholar, and consequently he moved to an apartment in Shiganshina and was seeing Mikasa and Armin everyday. The city of Shiganshina was urban, definitely a college town, and Eren thought he would might here even after he finished his one year at Shiganshina University.

“Yeah, being a visitor will be fun. It’s kind of ironic, though, getting invited two years later to a school I got rejected from.”

“You did get a C in history, Eren. And physics,” Armin said. Eren waved him off.

“But they want me now, don’t they?” Eren said with mock arrogance.

“You did publish an critically-acclaimed book when you were 18,” Mikasa pointed out. “You’re still bad at history though.”

“Speaking of your book,” Armin said as he sipped his coffee, “some of my friends were fanning over it the other day. Jean let it slip that I knew you and they starting asking me if I could get you to sign their books. Is that okay?” Armin looked apologetic.

“Yeah, it’s totally fine. I don’t mind. I’ll be at the university anyway; I probably would've run into them eventually.”

“Thanks, Eren. They’re huge fans. One of them—Connie—has this gigantic _Attack on Titan_ poster in his dorm room and once in a while they’ll get into these heated debates about your book.”

One of the defining features of _Attack on Titan_ ’s popularity was it’s cult following with young adults—something somewhat rare nowadays with books that were also well-regarded with literary critics. It walked the line though—some argued that it was nothing more than a well-written fantasy young adult novel while others argued that it had literary merit and should be taken seriously in the literary world. Eren didn’t really care, though, because “I get to make a living out of writing about man-eating giants and that’s fucking awesome.”

Eren grinned. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that people were reading his book, reading what he wrote.

“So how are your art classes going, Mikasa?” Armin asked.

She had recently switched her major to studio art—what she had always wanted to major in—from pharmaceutical sciences—which she had chosen previously because she was good at it, it was a lucrative major, and they were poor. Now that Eren was making a generous living off of writing, he told her to pursue what she wanted to do, regardless of the money.

“Great,” she said, and went on to talk about her art history and sculpting classes. She then asked Armin about his classes, and organic chemistry in particular, since that was his major. He groaned and laid his head on the table.

“It’s bad enough that it’s very difficult and grades are based on a curve, but the professor has really high standards. Don’t get me wrong—he’s great and the challenge is great—but I haven’t gotten more than four hours of sleep a night for the last week."

“Oh, I’ve heard about that professor," Mikasa said. "He’s notoriously abrasive and difficult,” she explained to Eren.

“He said my last lab report was mediocre. _Mediocre_. I got a C-,” Armin said with despair. This was a Big Deal, they could tell, because Armin was doing that thing where he chewed on his hair and tapped his foot. Armin never got less than a B on anything, and even those were somewhat rare and met with disappointment. (When he started getting a B in English, he immediately went into study-mode and even asked Eren for help.)

“I’m sure everyone else didn’t do that great either if you didn’t,” Eren said, trying to comfort him. Armin’s eyes narrowed.

“Most people got Ds and some got Fs,” Armin said.

“Then what’s wrong?” said Mikasa.

“Annie Leonhart,” he said, eyes still narrowed.

“What about her?” said Eren.

“She got a B+ on that assignment,” he said. Eren and Mikasa looked at each other; Armin’s competitive side was coming out. Armin was the most level-headed among the three of them, and he was usually very reasonable and caring, but when it came to academics he hated to be beaten.

“You’ll get a better score next time,” Mikasa said, but Armin was still thinking about Annie Leonhart and her B+ and his C- and _how the heck is she getting an A in this class?_ , and Eren and Mikasa knew that encouraging him was a lost cause for now.

 

* * *

 

Levi didn’t want to ask Hanji, but when he walked into the clinic yesterday he saw Krista Lenz, one of his students, working there, and he turned back. So he really had no choice but to go to Hanji. He entered her office and saw that she was reading something. Looking around, he was disgusted with the stacks of papers and books littering the floor and tables. Notes, pictures, and diagrams took up almost all the space on the walls. _What a mess_.

“Hanji,” he said. She looked up from the papers on her desk.

“What is it, my dear boy?”

“That guy you were talking to at the bar the other night…”

“Oh, Eren? What about him?” Hanji said, a grin spreading across her lips. “You want his number?” Levi scowled at her. “I saw you two making out. You slept with him, didn’t you? Don’t act like you didn’t.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “I was drunk. Anyway, do you know if he has any STDs?” he said bluntly. There were no minced words or beating around the bush between these two.

Hanji started laughing loudly.

“Shut up.”

She kept laughing and banging on the desk with her fist. Levi sighed and waited.

“Not that I know of,” Hanji said once her laughter subsided. “I really doubt he has any STDs.”

"Good," Levi said. “How do you know him, anyway?” he asked. His eyes widened. “He’s not a student, is he?”

“No, he’s not a student. He used to work at Café Maria.” Hanji was so giddy with amusement about what was to come in about three days, when Eren was set to join the university. For a year. This was going to be great.

Her phone vibrated, and she checked her text messages.

 

> **EREN:** Hanji, can I come by and print out my work schedule later? I lost my hard copy and Erwin told me that professors have access to the schedules online.

Hanji blinked, pausing for a moment, then smiled.

 

> **HANJI:** Where are you?
> 
> **EREN:** The coffee shop. Why?
> 
> **HANJI:** I was just about to get coffee. I’ll drop it off!
> 
> **EREN:** Thank you!

She opened up her laptop and printed out Eren’s schedule, then put away the papers and grabbed her bag. She turned to Levi and grinned.

“Levi, let’s go out for coffee!”

“I just had coffee.”

“Come on, I’ll buy you a nice, hot drink.”

“I’m staying behind to do some grading.”

She waved it off. “Just give everyone a C and be done with it.”

Levi scoffed. “That would be too generous.”

“Hey, Krista Lenz said that she saw you at the clinic the other day.”

“Let’s go get coffee.”

 

—

Levi met Eren’s eyes as he approached Café Maria.

"Here's your schedule, Eren," Hanji said as she walked over to him and handed him papers.

“What the fuck?”


	2. It’s like we’re in Sex and the City!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin discovers Twitter, and Eren and Levi interact without actually interacting.

Levi paced back and forth in the living room of Hanji’s apartment. Sipping a mojito, Hanji sat on the couch and watched him, amused. _Grading papers can wait, I guess_.

“Eren _fucking_ Yeager?” Levi said, finally standing still and looking at her. “I saw his name in the newspaper the other day. You want to know what it said? It said his success is astounding for a 22-year-old. _A 22-year-old_. What the fuck.”

Hanji just kept sipping her drink, waiting and uncharacteristically quiet about the matter.

Levi continued, “He’s as old as some of the students I teach. I’m almost 30.”

“Yeah,” Hanji said. “He’s cute though, right?”

“Go to hell. You should’ve told me he was going to be working at Shiganshina. I have to see this guy at work now, and if it gets out that I had a one night stand with Eren Yeager, I’ll never hear the end of it. College students are annoying.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t dare say anything to you. Your eyes scare them off.”

“Good.”

Hanji smiled. “Look at us: a couple of girlfriends, drinking mojitos and talking about boy problems. It’s like we’re in _Sex and the City_!” 

“What is with your newfound obsession with pop culture?” Levi said. Ignoring his comment, Hanji put down her drink and put on her coat.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said. “You can finish your rant at Petra’s.” They, along with Erwin, were set to have dinner at Petra and Auruo’s house soon.

Levi was silent throughout the car ride. He sat straight, crossing his arms, and looked out the window. Emptying his head of thoughts related to Eren Yeager, he thought of any little random thing to distract him: he thought of his students, he thought of the coming fall, he thought about his annoying neighbor with the stupid cat, he thought of _Sex and the City_ , he thought of the boy on the sidewalk they were passing by in the car that looked a lot like Eren Yeager.

Levi’s eyes widened as looked out the window: Eren Yeager (or a lookalike) and a blond person were standing on the sidewalk. The car quickly speeding away, he could no longer make them out.

“What’s up?” Hanji said as she continued driving, glancing at him briefly.

“Nothing,” he said. "Just a weird coincidence."

They reached the apartment around 6:35 p.m., and Petra greeted them as she waved them through the door. Looking around, they noticed Auruo’s absence.

“Where’s the husband?” Levi asked.

“He’s joining us soon. He’s picking up my niece from my sister’s house. She’ll be staying with us for a while since her parents are both out of town on business trips.” said Petra.

The doorbell rang, and Petra opened the door to let in Erwin.

“Hi, Erwin. Oh, what’s this?” Petra said, noticing the bag he carried.

“Just a bottle of wine for dinner,” said Erwin. He smiled at her and saw Levi and Hanji, but no Auruo.

“Auruo’s picking up my niece right now. She’s going to be staying with us for a little bit while her parents are out of town. You don’t mind if she stays for dinner, do you?”

“Not at all,” Erwin said.

Levi and Hanji took their places at the dinner table while Erwin offered to help Petra carry in the food. As roast beef, potatoes, salad, and other dishes entered the room, Levi felt strangely content. He appreciated the warm glow of the dim, yellow lighting, the soft cream of the tablecloth, the smell and heat of the food.

It had been a long week—he passed back lab reports and quizzes (which were dismal, though he wasn’t surprised) and the students went batshit and teary-eyed like they had never gotten a D on anything before, so they tried to defend their shitty work over and over again. And then there was Hanji, who was suddenly fascinated by pop culture; while Levi was used to her sometimes erratic behavior and chattiness, he really did not care if some child star leaked a picture of his penis or what the reaction said about sexism in the media. And then he got drunk and slept with a famous author, of course. But sitting here, in the warm glow of a kitchen and a fireplace with the smell of food and the chatter of his good friends, he was content. He could feel a week’s worth of stress melting away.

He reached out to his wine glass, which Petra had filled for him, and brought it to his lips, taking a sip as the door opened wide.

“I’m back,” said Auruo as he walked in. “Hitch is here, too.”

A girl walked in behind him, and Levi’s eyes widened just slightly.

“Hi, everyone. I— Oh, Professor!” she said as she met Levi’s eyes,

“Hello, Hitch,” he said.

“You two already know each other,” said Petra, looking back and forth between them. “I guess I should have put two and two together.”

Oluo and Hitch sat at the table, and Hitch wouldn’t stop looking at Levi.

“Professor,” she said.

“Yes?” he said.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

He sighed internally. He knew where this was going. “Yes?” he said.

“I don’t think I deserve a D+ on that lab report,” Hitch said, “I—”

“We shouldn’t talk grades at the table right now,” Petra interrupted as she placed a plate of food in front of her. “It’s rude.”

Hitch bit her lip and complied reluctantly.

“No, it’s fine. We can just get this out of the way now,” said Levi.

“Are you sure?” Petra said. Levi didn’t get to answer before Hitch started again.

“Okay, I got a 67% on that report. But Armin Arlert got a 73% and I know I did as good (if not better) than he did.” Hitch went on, explaining her reasoning to Levi, while everyone else at the table tuned out and had their own conversations.

Erwin glanced at the two: Levi looked bored and apathetic (but then again, that was his default expression) and Hitch was animatedly defending her assignment. Smiling, he remembered his own university days, when he would vent to his friends about unfair grades and ridiculous classes.

“Erwin,” Petra said. He turned his attention back to her.

“Hm? Yes?”

“We were just talking about going to see that new film later—the one you said you wanted to see the other day?” said Petra.

“Oh, yes. That would be great.”

“It premieres here next Saturday at 7:20 p.m.,” said Auruo as he looked at the website on his phone. Hanji confirmed that everyone was free then.

“Do you guys mind if I invite another friend?” Hanji said.

“It’s fine. Who is it?” asked Erwin. Hanji smiled.

“Eren Yeager,” she said. Levi, who was not a part of the conversation because he was still listening to Hitch, did not turn in her direction or acknowledge what she had just said. But his eye twitched, and that was enough.

Erwin’s eyes lit up at the name, and he went into college dean mode.

“That’s a great idea,” he said. “It’ll make him feel welcome.”

“Aren’t you friends with the guy?” Auruo asked Hanji.

“You are?” said Erwin, surprised.

“Yeah, I’ve known him for a while—before he got published, actually. He used to work at Café Maria in high school before he moved to the next city over for college. And sometimes he visits me at the bar when I work there to help out my cousin, the owner,” Hanji said.

“That’s fantastic. If he’s already your good friend, perhaps he’ll be more inclined to extend his stay here,” said Erwin. “I’ve read _Attack on Titan_. It’s quite good, and although I don’t think it’s a masterpiece, Eren Yeager has real talent and potential.” Erwin wanted Eren, to put it simply. While Shiganshina University had excellent and renowned departments in most areas, as of late its English department was losing prestige.

“Did you say ‘Eren Yeager’?” Hitch said, turning abruptly.

“Yes. Yeager will be a visiting scholar at the university, working with our English department,” Erwin said. Hitch gaped, not caring at the moment if she looked like an idiot in front of her orgo professor and the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences because holy shit Eren Yeager was going to be at her school.

“Oh my god,” Hitch said. “Eren freaking Yeager. Is he going to be at the university a lot?” she asked.

“Almost every day,” said Erwin. “He won’t be teaching classes or anything of the sort, but he’ll be working with a lot of the professors here and their students.”

“Holy shit,” said Hitch, gasping. “I love _Attack on Titan_. I’ve been obsessed with the book since summer. I can’t believe it.” She pulled her cell phone from her jean pocket and began texting furiously. Petra smiled at all the enthusiasm at the table.

“What’re you doing?” Petra asked.

“Telling everyone about this. God, they’re going to freak. Hey, I’m not hungry; can I please be excused for dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll bring up food later.” said Petra. Hitch yelled out a “thank you” as she ran up the stairs.

“Freshmen,” Levi said under his breath, and Petra laughed.

 

 

—

“What _is_ Twitter, anyway?” Erwin asked when Hanji said she was on Eren Yeager’s Twitter. They were all sitting around in front of the fireplace in the living room after dinner. Levi swore she was bringing up Yeager at every opportunity to annoy him.

“It’s a site where you can quickly keep people updated on what you’re doing or what you’re thinking, and you have ‘followers’ and can follow others.” Hanji said. Erwin furrowed his brows.

“Followers—like a cult?” Erwin said.

“Kind of,” said Hanji. “Oh, look, Eren said something about Shiganshina U.” Erwin perked up and looked over at the screen of Hanji’s phone.

 

 

> **Eren Yeager (@eren_yeager):** Excited to be working with the great English department at Shiganshina University soon!

“That’s great,” said Erwin. Hanji handed him the phone, seeing his clear interest.

 

 

> **Eren Yeager (@eren_yeager):** I just can’t help this prejudice I have against Americans who don’t use Oxford commas.

“Huh,” said Erwin after reading a few more tweets. “Twitter is quite interesting.” He read the next one out loud:

 

 

> **Eren Yeager (@eren_yeager):** I don’t know if I never want to drink vodka again or drink it more often. All I know is that I think I have a thing for short guys now.

Levi almost choked on his wine.

 

* * *

 

Eren almost turned away when he saw Levi sitting inside as he approached Café Maria. _Who the hell shows up at 6:00 a.m on a Saturday?_ , he thought, fully aware of his own hypocrisy. The coffee shop was empty of customers except for Levi, who was sitting at a table in a corner. A laptop, coffee, and a small stack of papers sat on his table. He looked warm, Eren noted with jealousy as he stood clutching his laptop in the cold. Debating on whether or not to turn away, Eren just stood there, looking at Levi through the large glass windows.

His decision was made for him, however, when Levi looked up and met his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. He paused just slightly mid-drink, and while his face revealed nothing about what he was thinking, he continued looking at Eren.

Eren nearly dropped his laptop, cursing as he fumbled. _Don’t look embarrassed_ , he told himself, but he could feel his ears burning. The confidence and ease that he displayed the morning after their night together was virtually gone now. He opened the door and walked in, relieved at the warmth but slightly panicking about the man who was currently sitting in the corner.

“Hi,” Eren said to the barista. “Can I get a large hazelnut macchiato?”

“Sure thing. That’ll be $4.15,” she said. She took his money, then grabbed a cup and a marker. “What’s your name?”

“Eren,” he said. He peeked over at Levi, who was still sitting at his corner and typing, apparently not paying Eren any attention. It was then that he realized the only other electricity outlet available (other than the one Levi was currently using) was near Levi, which meant Eren had to sit at a neighboring table because he hadn’t charged his laptop the night before. _This is going to be so fucking awkward_ , he thought.

He walked over to the table next to Levi’s and sat his things down.

“Uh, hi,” said Eren. “How’s it going?”

Levi stopped typing immediately and turned to look at him.

After a moment, he sighed and said, “Look, we got drunk and we fucked and now we work together. It is what it is. You don’t have to make small talk.”

Eren blinked, a little stunned—and relieved—that Levi was addressing everything so openly and bluntly. It pleased him.

“So I guess it’s going okay, then?” said Eren with an amused smile, now more relaxed.

Levi snorted. “Sure.”

They fell into silence after that, the air filled with the sound of fingers hitting keys and a barista working. Concentration was evident on Eren’s face; he was usually focused and maybe a little intense when he was writing, said past observers. This time, though, he was slightly distracted by the man sitting next to him. Just slightly. He glanced over at Levi, who was sipping his drink.

 _He holds his cup funny_ , Eren noticed. Levi took a sip of his drink again and Eren thought he would spill it with the way he was holding it, but he didn’t. He watched as Levi brought the cup up to his lips, blowing briefly before making contact. (When the thought _that was hot_ appeared in his mind, he convinced himself he was talking about the coffee, of course. _Yes, the coffee looks hot. Very hot._ ) Finally realizing what he was doing, Eren turned back to his laptop and went back to working.

Levi pretended not to notice the boy's periodic glances. He couldn’t help glancing back himself after a while, though, when he noticed that Eren stopped paying attention to him. Levi looked over to see him completely focused on whatever was on his computer screen, brows furrowed and lips moving slightly as he subconsciously and silently mouthed the words he was reading.

Levi stopped typing at that sight, somewhat taken aback at the concentration. Where was the cheeky grin the boy had after Levi kicked him out of the apartment? Or the nervous biting of the lip upon entering the café? (Or the _sensual_  biting of the lip as Levi was pinning him down on the mattress a few days ago—but he discarded that thought as soon as it popped in his head.)

Levi leaned back in his chair a bit, just enough to see what Eren was looking at. It was a word document, probably a draft he wrote himself. Satisfied, Levi went back to looking at his own laptop screen. He was just about to check his email when Eren sighed loudly. Levi kept his eyes on his screen, refusing to look.

“That’s not right,” Eren muttered to himself quietly, though not quietly enough.

Levi still kept his eyes on his screen.

Eren started tapping his foot while Levi was trying to respond to an email. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the blur of Eren’s knee, rapidly bouncing up and down. He was suddenly reminded of why he came to the coffee shop before 6:00 a.m. on Saturdays in the first place: there were usually no other people making noises or tapping foots or bouncing knees, only the sounds of employees working on the other side of the room and customers occasionally passing in and out. Levi sighed, trying not to blame the guy for his own shitty attention span in the mornings, and went back to his email. (There was something in the back of his mind, though, that told him it wasn’t just his morning irritability at fault, but he was not inclined to listen to such thoughts at the moment.)

Eren’s phone vibrated loudly against the wooden table. Snapping out of his concentration, he picked it up. Levi looked over at him when Eren started chuckling at whatever was on his phone. Then smiling as he typed a reply. Then looking surprised as the next text he received.

Levi wasn’t even pretending to work anymore. That email was not getting written.

(Eren bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He felt mild guilt at distracting Levi from his work, but it was nice to not be the only one sending glances.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S/O to the-perks-of-being-a-nerd for GREAT information about college life :D and also to neon-flights (actual knowledge of chemistry? I am very impressed, seriously). Thank you so much!


	3. Do you like E. E. Cummings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren is a dork with a terrible sense of humor. The "when she smiles" trope and cheesiness abounds. Eren is a biter. (Levi probably likes it.)

Levi was on his fourth cup of coffee before Eren started to get worried. He was typing rapidly and his eyes were narrowed in concentration. It was a wonder that this man—who looked so tense and uptight, and Eren was beginning to suspect that he might have been workaholic—was the one that he had a drunken night with. A college professor hopped up on four cups of black coffee and squinting at a computer screen at 7:30 a.m. didn’t exactly scream “I like to fuck strangers I meet at bars.”

“Hey, do you really think you should be drinking so much coffee all at once? That’s probably not good for you,” Eren said. He wondered for a moment if he was being too intrusive when Levi raised an eyebrow.

He considered ignoring him, but instead said, “Studies show that coffee doesn’t have detrimental health effects even if you drink up to six cups a day.”

“Huh,” said Eren. “I’ve been misled.”

“It’s probably healthier than the shit you’re drinking,” said Levi as he eyed Eren’s hot chocolate with whipped cream. Eren looked at his cup with a guilty grin, his teeth bared and eyes crinkling. He was pretty fucking cute, Levi noted, then wanted to slam his forehead against the table.

“I like sweets,” Eren said with a shrug, happy that they could talk normally.

“You’re such a kid,” Levi said offhandedly, more as a result of his own thoughts than of Eren’s love of sweets.

He hadn’t really meant it in an insulting or hurtful way, but Eren’s cheerful demeanor soured immediately. Eren’s jaw clenched and his smile was completely gone, and Levi remembered the way Eren had responded that night at the bar to a similar comment. _“I’m not a kid!”_

“I’m not a kid.”

“I didn’t—”

“What, I’m a child because I like hot chocolate?"

"No, of—"

"Who are you to invalidate me because of stupid shit like that?” Eren’s face was getting redder and he huffed with anger.

“Look, I—”

“I am so tired of being called a kid. I am so tired of that bullshit. I don’t need—”

“ _Stop_. Look, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not a kid. I’m sorry,” said Levi, the apology feeling awkward and foreign on his tongue. Eren froze, then sighed in frustration, his shoulders no longer tense, but hanging.

“Shit,” said Eren, looking at his lap. “I didn’t mean to get angry at you like that.” He felt so, so stupid and childish for blowing up at that little comment. It wasn’t Levi’s fault that those words bothered him so much. Levi wasn’t his father. And he had even apologized to Eren and didn’t get mad at him, despite his seemingly gruff and agitated personality. He was being an adult. Eren really did feel like a child, now. “Sorry,” Eren muttered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

An awkward, dejected silence fell over them. As he continued looking down, Eren became lost in his own thoughts, and for the first time it struck Levi that Eren Yeager, with the pretty smile and best-selling book and careless air, had something that kept him up some nights, that stained his soul with a kind of sorrow or bitterness. It was funny how you could forget those things sometimes, Levi thought, that you could forget that everyone heard those sad, angry whispers that felt like they could rip you apart.

“You feel what you feel,” Levi said finally in his usual flat tone. “It’s fine.”

At those words Eren looked up to see Levi looking elsewhere at nothing in particular, his elbow on the table and his head resting in his hand. He looked like a bored teenager. The man was unoffended at Eren’s outburst and unconcerned with his current emotional state, but his words felt stuck in Eren’s chest. He wasn't sure why, they just did.

“‘I feel what I feel,’ huh?” he said quietly, unsure if he was talking to himself or the man next to him at this point. There was the unspoken knowledge between them that the “kid” comment bothered Eren for other reasons, ones that Levi didn't yet know but could nevertheless respect. Everything felt strangely intimate.

“Yeah,” said Levi.

“Is it really that simple?” Eren asked. Levi was looking at him now.

“It is.”

Eren’s mouth opened to say something, but he closed it, pausing for a moment before nodding in understanding.

“Thanks,” he said after a while.

 _What for?_ Levi wanted to say, but refrained because he wasn’t used to making so much intimate conversation (or any conversation, really) with most people, let alone this one in particular, but also because he kind of already knew “what for.”

When he didn't respond, Eren realized it was probably a cue to move on from their conversation. _Of course. He doesn’t really seem like the talkative type_ , he thought. He felt a little embarrassed now, having shown that kind of vulnerability to a virtual stranger, especially one that he had slept with. He wasn’t sure if Levi’s lack of a response made it better or worse—but he did tell Eren those words, didn't he? _“You feel what you feel. It’s fine.”_   Why, despite the casual and monotone voice, had that sounded so sincere? Eren gently traced the rim of his cup with his thumb, and for some reason his neck felt a little warm.

“So,” said Eren, ready to start anew, “you really don’t like hot chocolate? I didn’t know you lacked a soul.” The lightness of his tone and the grin on his face cleansed the tension and uncertainty in the air.

Levi snorted. “You actually thought I had a soul?”

His eyes wide in slight surprise, Eren grinned even wider. Levi was actually joking with him.

“Nah, I guess not. I never did trust people who could drink their coffee black.”

“I don’t like sweet things,” said Levi, surprising even himself that he was still talking.

“You’re pretty different from Hanji,” Eren said suddenly. His hand then covered his forehead and he started laughing. “God, that reminds me: last week she sent me snapchats of her having Capri Suns for breakfast.”

Levi grimaced. She was still doing that? _Ugh_.

“Oh!” said Eren, “and the caption, it said, ‘breakfast of a _capri_ cious adult at _sun_ rise.” Unable to contain himself, Eren started cracking up and slapping his knee.

“Shitty Glasses and her shitty jokes,” Levi said under his breath, shaking his head. _What the hell is a "snapchat," anyway?_ he thought. Eren only laughed harder at that, and Levi had his classic annoyed look on his face. After moments passed and Eren was still laughing ( _Why? That was the shittiest joke, what the fuck_ ), Levi politely waited for him, looking bored as ever.

“Come on,” said Eren through his laughter, “‘ _capri_ -cious,’ ‘ _sun_ -rise’—get it?”

His eyes were so big and his face was so expectant, Levi couldn’t help it when a corner of his mouth lifted to form a wry, absent-minded kind of half-smile tinged with amusement and condescension.

Eren’s laughter halted and he held his breath for that instant. He stared, blinking and devoid of any thoughts except for, _he’s smiling—kind of_. He realized then that it was the first time he had ever seen Levi with anything close to a smile, and it was so foreign and unexpected that Eren really didn’t know how to breathe for a second. He could see a strip of teeth gleaming, like a bit of strange white space between the tear of two lips. It was all kind of entrancing.

“‘…And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms,’” said Eren absent-mindedly and slowly under his breath, not realizing he was speaking—not realizing what he was saying.

“What?” said Levi. Eren’s eyes widened as he snapped out of his reverie.

“Nothing!” he said. “I didn’t say anything.” He could feeling the hard pulsing of blood in his neck. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

 

—

Eren left an hour after that, leaving Levi to himself once again. In that hour the two of them slipped in and out of conversation, though Eren was doing most of the talking while Levi would respond occasionally, if he felt like it (which was rare). Throughout all this Eren went through one hazelnut macchiato, one hot chocolate, two muffins, a banana, and a bagel (“You eat like a baby dinosaur.” —“Isn’t that from _No Strings Attached_?” —“…Hanji made me watch it.”), while Levi managed to get on his sixth cup of black coffee (“How have you not peed yet?”).

As he was gathering his things in preparation for leaving, he turned to Levi and blurted out nervously, “I don’t even like E. E. Cummings.”

“What?” said Levi.

Eren exhaled. “Nothing,” he said, laughing at himself a little. “Just something I was thinking about.”

He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and threw away a few scraps of trash.

“See you later,” said Eren with a wave and a smile as he walked out of Café Maria.

The door shut with a resounding thud and the jangle of the bell hanging at the top. All of a sudden it felt even quieter than before when it was just the two of them, Levi realized, despite the clamor of more customers, employees, and coffee-making. It was so quiet.

 

 

—

“Did you get a lot of work done this morning?” Hanji asked as she and Levi stood in her kitchen, her chopping carrots and him leaning against the counter uselessly because he wasn’t to be trusted with cooking. It was evening now, and they were preparing for dinner.

“No,” he said.

“Well, that’s new!” she said. “You didn’t go to the café today? Did you sleep with another best-selling author?”

“Shove it up your ass,” he said in annoyance. “No, I went.”

Hanji turned around now, her lips curled in a slight smile. “Then what was the problem?”

Levi paused, then said, “People… breathing. Bouncing knees. Texting.”

Hanji gasped loudly and dramatically. “Breathing? _Texting_?” She dropped her knife and turned to him, grabbing his face between her hands.

“Don’t touch me with your filthy—”

“Oh Lord,” she said as she began shaking him, “please cleanse our dear brother Leviticus of the breathing and the texting he has encountered today.” She pressed her forehead against his, her glasses smashed against his eyelids. “Amen.”

“Your hands are dirty—”

“Hallelujah!”

“Shitty Glasses—”

“Praise Jesus!”

“Is that a _stain_ —”

“And the Kardashians—especially Khloe.”

Levi pushed away her arms as she laughed. She threw her arm on his shoulder, using him as an armrest, and he turned his head away, grimacing at the water stain on her sleeve.

“Honestly, though. Breathing? Bouncing knees? Texting?” she said, clearly not taking him seriously.

“There were _emotions_ ,” he said. At this she raised her eyebrows and pushed her glasses back on her nose.

“The horny kind?” she asked in earnest. He rolled his eyes at her.

“The angry kind. The sad kind.”

“I see,” said Hanji. She would have asked about it, asked what “angry” or “sad” person or thing got him so distracted that he couldn’t complete his Saturday morning routine and act out his workaholic behavior, but looking at Levi, Hanji could see he didn't want to reveal much more about it. He wasn’t going to talk about it anytime soon, and as much as she loved prying and getting into people’s business and overstepping boundaries, Levi always was a special kind of boy.

The look he had on his face now told her that maybe even _he_ didn’t know whatever it is that he was talking about. She would let him off the hook, then—just this once.

“Do you like E. E. Cummings?” he said out of the blue, staring at the wall across from him.

She smiled at him, her arm still resting on his shoulder. She rested her head against that arm, her cheek near his, and he didn’t push her away.

“I _love_ E. E. Cummings,” she said with absolute sincerity.

He let out a short laugh. “I Googled him.”

“Oh?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you find?”

He pondered for a moment, then said, “Porn, basically.” Hanji laughed.

 

* * *

 

That night, as he laid in bed, Eren couldn’t get Levi’s smile out of his head.

 

* * *

 

They really had to stop meeting like this, under the grey, cloudy sky and icy cold of desolate mornings, when everyone else was half-asleep in their beds at 6:00 a.m. The only other people active on campus at the moment were a few custodians sweeping the rooms, the low music of their personal radios traveling through the halls.

Last night’s rain had wet the ground outside and left red and yellow leaves stuck to every wet surface, stuck to the bottom of shoes as people walked past, as if to serve as a reminder that they were coming into autumn.

Eren basked in the weather and the scenery as he walked to the staff room, all bundled up in his thick brown coat and maroon scarf. (Mikasa had looked at him drowsily before he left and told him affectionately that he looked like a giant brown pea.) His boots made a squelching noise as they hit the damp, shimmering blacktop, and he didn’t bother to peel away the bright leaves stuck to the bottom of his heel that caught his eye.

When he stood in front of the door of the staff lounge, he stopped, taking a moment to breathe in deeply and appreciate the way the icy cold air felt in his lungs. He was calm this morning. Mornings were about the only time he, passionate, clumsy Eren Yeager, was completely calm. It always surprised people that he was a morning person.

“Ahem,” someone cleared his throat behind him. Eren jumped a little at the noise, and he turned around to see Levi staring blankly at him.

Eren’s heart started to beat a little faster—at the surprise, he thought, it was merely the surprise of Levi’s appearance that caused his rapid heartbeat, of course—and his face broke out into a smile.

“Hi,” said Eren breathlessly.

“Are you going to open the door?” Levi said, skipping the salutations.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. My bad,” said Eren as he turned the knob and held open the door for Levi, who gave him a quiet, “Thanks.”

Eren took a seat at one of the tables while Levi sat on a couch a few feet away. Eren took off his coat and put down his messenger bag, too aware of Levi’s presence in the room. He looked down at his boots, admiring the colors of the leaves stuck to his heels and ankles.

When he looked up he saw Levi peeling off the wet leaves from his shoes with an irritated look on his face, and he laughed softly under his breath.

Levi heard him, though, and looked up. “You laughing at me, Yeager?”

“Yeah,” said Eren, inexplicably pleased with the way Levi was calling him by his last name.

“Fucking brat,” said Levi without any real malice. Levi then became alarmed, realizing he could have just offended Eren again by calling him “brat” and hitting that same nerve he did two days ago, but Eren just laughed.

“Hey, you fucked this brat,” he said playfully without thinking. The two of them froze, taking in what Eren had just said.

While Levi had been quite blunt about it when they first met at the coffee shop just two days ago, they hadn’t really brought it up again. There was always an odd kind of air between them then, because they were both blunt and honest (although in different ways), but sex—that one night stand—was always in the back of their minds. It was weirder for Levi especially because it was so rare he found someone that was easy to talk to like Eren was—heck, someone that he was even _willing_ to talk to (or willing to talk to _him_ , for that matter).

So their interactions were always like that: easy and refreshing, but colored with sex, with the fact that they had seen each other naked and heard each other moan and watched each other unravel in the midst of drunken pleasure.

The moment Eren said those words, Levi thought back to that night—the wet kisses, the hot breaths against his ear, the fact that he now knew that Eren Yeager liked to bite and Levi may or may not still have a few fading marks to prove it.

Eren cleared his throat and looked away. “Um…”

The door flew open and Hanji stuck her head in. With a look of suspicion on her face, she started sniffing the air.

“Smells like sexual tension in here,” she said.

“Hi Hanji,” said Eren, relieved at the escape from the awkwardness.

“Hey babe,” she said as she walked towards them and sat on the tabletop next to Eren. “Has this sexy little homunculus scared you off yet?”

Eren laughed and shook his head.

“What are you doing up so early?” Eren asked. He and Levi might have been morning people, perfectly capable of and willing to roll out of bed at 5:00 a.m., but Hanji most certainly was not.

“I’ve been here since 4:00 a.m., actually. I was making a new midterm for this semester since the last one got leaked.” Hanji had on a rare look of discontentment.

“Wow, that sucks. I think I heard about that from Armin; it was a big scandal, wasn’t it? You must be really disappointed in those students,” Eren said.

“I really am,” said Hanji, shaking her head in exasperation. “A lot of them are pre-med, and if they can’t get away with a simple thing like this, how are they going to manage being doctors?”

“Yeah…” said Eren. “Wait, what?”

“How are you going to cut people open if you can’t even manage to steal a test right? Keep track of my daily schedule, find out where I keep the test, get a diversion going, take pictures of the test. Or they could’ve done it electronically if they had the money or the know-how—how hard is it?!”

Eren’s mouth hung open a little.

“Doctors? _Please_ ,"  said Hanji, throwing her hands up _._  "I am so disappointed as an educator."

“Uh, yeah,” said Eren.

Hanji looked at the clock, then smiled and said, “I’m going to go grab coffee and run some errands. I’ll be back in an hour… or three.”

She passed by Levi, stooped down, and whispered in his ear, “However long it takes for you two to have a quickie and become boyfriends already.”

“I will stab you in the ear with a dull pencil,” said Levi. She patted his head lovingly and left.

Eren and Levi were alone once again.

“So,” said Eren. “A quickie, huh?”

“Fucking brat.”


	4. Hanji, you bastard.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean Kirstein and 4:00 a.m. grocery shopping.

The first time Jean and Eren had sex, they were 16 and in Eren’s basement. If anyone asked, they said that it just sort of happened (although Jean’s definition of “it just sort of happened” included buying condoms two weeks in advance because _maybe_ he had been waiting months now to seduce Eren, but he would never admit it).

They hadn’t had the best first meeting, so it was somewhat of a surprise to them that things had ended up that way. The first time they met, Jean was hitting on Mikasa in the stands at a school soccer game.

“He goes to the school we’re playing right now. He’s been trying to get a date for weeks,” Armin explained. Eren looked at Jean with immediate disgust, not trusting the way he was leering at Mikasa or the way he didn’t seem to back off despite her disinterest. She seemed completely uninterested, unaware or at least uncaring that she was being hit on. Her eyes lit up when she saw Eren and Armin, and she waved them over.

“Hey Jean,” said Armin. “This is Eren, Mikasa’s brother.”

Jean took one look at him and, despite the fact that Mikasa and Eren weren’t biologically related, wondered at the great genes that went into the Yeager family.

“Hi,” said Jean, a little breathless at the attractive boy in front of him and momentarily forgetting about Mikasa. Eren didn’t notice Jean’s immediate interest in him, instead eyeing the way Jean’s hand was touching Mikasa’s.

“You look like a fucking horse. Stop hitting on my sister,” said Eren, glaring at him.

“Eren!” Armin said with wide eyes.

“What the fuck?” said Jean, surprised and offended.

Mikasa, who would normally scold her brother for being so rude, covered her mouth with her hand and tried to hide her smile.

It all went downhill from there: Jean and Eren were sworn enemies after that. To Jean, Eren was a rude, childish prick with a big mouth who insulted his pride, and to Eren, Jean was a pretentious douchebag who couldn’t take no for an answer.

So it annoyed Jean to no end that he still found Eren Yeager very, very attractive. And after a few months and time for reflection, he realized that he really might’ve been a douchebag when he kept hitting on Mikasa despite her disinterest. But god, he did not want to give Eren the satisfaction of admitting that he was wrong.

Things mellowed out between them eventually, and their arguments became less filled with tension and more filled with _sexual_ tension.

“So that’s how I lost my virginity to a horse,” Eren liked to joke.

“Eren has a tiny dick,” said Jean apathetically, used to Eren’s insults.

“I feel a little guilty breaking the law—beastiality and everything, you know,” said Eren.

“Tiny. Positively miniscule dick,” said Jean casually, not looking up from the pages of his newspaper.

“Wow, guys, did I really need to hear about this at breakfast?” said Armin. They all sat around a table in a nearly empty dining hall, plates of food in front of them. It was Sunday and nearing 7:00 a.m.

“Hey, we need _someone_ to hear us quip at each other. Otherwise it’s just pathetic,” said Eren, looking appalled at idea. Jean nodded his head vigorously in agreement, and Armin sighed in exasperation.

“I don’t think horse jokes and tiny dick accusations really count as clever quips anyway,” said Armin as he took a bite of his scrambled eggs.

Eren sighed, and he and Jean looked at each other.

“Armin’s right. We’re losing our touch,” said Eren.

“Yeah,” said Jean. “It’s just not as easy to hate each other as it was in high school.”

They both closed their eyes and shook their heads dramatically, mourning the end of their era of being enemies.

Eren cupped Jean’s cheek and looked him in the eye.

“You’ll always be ‘Horseface’ to me, Jean,” said Eren with fondness.

“I’ll punch you in the crotch,” said Jean in a flat tone, and Eren started laughing.

“You guys are so ridiculous,” said Armin chuckling, and Jean smiled.

“So, you’re looking better,” said Jean, noticing that Armin looked relaxed for the first time in weeks. It probably had something to do with Eren’s now-frequent presence, he suspected.

“What do you mean?” said Armin.

“I don’t know. You’ve been looking really stressed out lately. Wasn’t your organic chemistry class giving you trouble or something?” said Jean. Armin’s eyes went wide, then narrow. He gripped his fork a little tighter.

“We don’t talk about that anymore,” Eren whispered to Jean.

“I have a C in that class now. A _C_ ,” Armin whispered in horror as he shook his head. Jean’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wow. You’ve never gotten a C. Ever,” said Jean.

“I _know_ ,” Armin cried.

“This must be devastating for you,” said Jean, and Armin just groaned and covered his face with his hands. Eren smacked Jean on the head. “Ow!”

“You’re an idiot,” Eren said to him. Jean rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask someone for help? Surely _someone_ in the class is getting a good grade,” said Jean. Armin pursed his lips.

“One person,” said Armin. “One person is getting a good grade.”

“Great! Ask them for help. What’s the problem?” Jean asked, seeing the odd expression on Armin’s face.

“ _Annie Leonhart_ ,” Eren said in a mockingly serious tone, imitating Armin before he could say it. Armin shot him a glare.

“She has to be cheating or something. _No one_ is that smart. No one,” said Armin. He was clearly bitter, Jean could tell.

“Aren’t you just being resentful because she’s getting the best grade and beating you?” said Jean, honest as ever. Armin looked offended at that idea. He opened his mouth to retort, but couldn’t find any words and closed it. He looked at Eren for support.

“Horseface kind of has a point,” said Eren as he looked away guiltily.

“Hey!” said Armin. “That’s not true.”

“It’s totally true,” said Eren. “Swallow your pride and ask her for help, man.”

“No! She’s cheating—she has to be!” said Armin, although they could tell that even he didn’t really believe himself. Jean shrugged.

“Maybe she’s sleeping with the professor,” he suggested jokingly.

“Eren’s already doing that,” said Armin automatically. He then froze and looked at Eren, realizing what he had just said in front of Jean.

“…Woops.”

 

—

He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.

“…And so after my dad called I was super pissed and I wasn’t thinking straight…”

It wasn’t really his business if Eren decided to sleep with Armin’s old fart of an orgo professor. Jean and Eren weren’t in a relationship, after all. They weren’t even dating.

“…He kicked me out of bed—literally. It was kind of funny…”

They only slept together occasionally. It was an unspoken friends-with-benefits agreement between them, and had never caused any problems before. It was never a big deal. Jean was more promiscuous though, sleeping with other people as he pleased, whereas Eren didn’t really. He had few sexual partners in comparison, and didn’t often have sex outside of relationships. Jean was his exception.

So he didn’t even have a right to be jealous—not that he was jealous in the first place, of course. Besides, it was only a one-night stand, and he knew from experience that those never meant anything as long as you didn’t make anything out of them.

“…I saw him yesterday at Café Maria. It was awkward at first, but we actually get along pretty well. He’s really interesting.”

_Oh._

 

—

“Holy shit, is that really him?”

“I think so—it has to be him. There’s Jean and his blond friend, too.”

“Wow. He’s hot? I didn’t know he was hot. What the hell?”

“I call dibs.”

“You can’t call dibs on Eren Yeager!”

Students started filling the dining hall after about an hour, and it didn’t take long before they noticed Eren. He, Jean, and Armin had chosen one of the less popular dining halls to avoid this, but Eren’s face was more recognizable than they had thought, and the students had clearly been informed of his arrival beforehand.

No one had approached him yet, though, until two people ran up to their table and nearly crashed into it.

“Mr. Yeager, sir!” one of them shouted, almost like a salute. Eren flinched—not so much from the loudness of his voice, but because of what he called him.

“Connie, calm down,” said Jean.

“I’m Connie,” he said, catching his breath. “It’s fucking amazing to meet you, oh my god. This is Sasha.” He pointed to the taller girl next to him, who was currently too starstruck by Eren’s presence to say anything.

Eren gave them his widest smile, and the people around him practically swooned.

“I’m straight, right?” Connie whispered doubtfully in Sasha’s ear as he stared at Eren’s smile. She gave him reassuring pats on the back.

“I’m Eren. And you don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Yeager,’” Eren said with a laugh. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Connie and Sasha’s introduction broke a barrier, and soon others trickled to Eren’s table, introducing themselves, making conversation, and occasionally asking him to sign their copies of _Attack on Titan_. A few friends and regular members of Armin and Jean’s group of friends were seated at the table with them.

“Okay,” said Connie to Eren. “Sasha thinks that Wallists are a parody of organized religions in general, but that’s wrong, right?”

“Oh my god,” said Sasha, “of _course_ they’re parodies of religions. The parallels are so obvious—they’re meant to show the way a lot of Western religions use fear to get followers.”

“Maybe on surface level reading,” said Connie, “but if you look deeper it’s more of an exploration of the way fear and desperate situations drive people to look towards higher beings for support. It’s about power—just look at the power the walls have, and the power structures within the Wallist church with the priests and the followers. It’s not really a criticism of Christianity; it’s way more psychological than that.”

“If we’re talking about power,” said Krista, coming into the conversation, “it makes more sense to be talking about the dynamics between the adults and the children, or perhaps the symbolic value of the maneuver gear, which offers them power and a way to fight back, but at the same time restrains and binds them. I think I agree more with Sasha when she says the Wallists are a criticism of organized religion.”

“Not everything is a criticism of religion! Think outside the box, people,” said Connie, slightly exasperated.

“Eren,” said Sasha. “Who’s right?”

They all looked at him with intense eyes, needing him to settle the argument.

“Sorry, guys,” he said after moments of silence. “I’m not going to tell you. You can interpret it however you want.”

Connie and Sasha groaned.

“I’m still right,” she said as Connie shook his head in disagreement.

“Sorry if all of this annoys you,” Krista said to Eren.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” he said. “I could listen to this stuff all day.”

“You’ll probably have to,” said Jean as Connie and Sasha started debating again on the significance of the ending of the book.

 

* * *

 

It’s not that his life was routine—it’s just that nothing could really surprise him anymore. Levi was only 29, but sometimes he felt like he was a century old (and Erwin had certainly described him as a grouchy old man on several occasions). He liked to blame it on his job, which required constant interaction with _young people_ , but Hanji said it was the weight of existence that really made him ancient.

“Your bones are old,” she said, her eyes closed as her body stretched out on Levi’s couch.

“I know,” said Levi. “But at least coffee keeps me young.”

She smiled at sat up, looking at him. “Coffee and hot ass, eh?”

“I’ll kill you,” he said calmly. Hanji started laughing at that.

“You know, most people think you have more subtlety and tact than to make explicit death threats, but you’re really not above it all.”

He shrugged. “I’m too old to be witty.”

“You’re not even 30!” she said.

“I’m old. You know I’m old,” he said. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” she said, now more serious. “I do.”

Hanji closed her eyes once more, sitting cross-legged on the couch. She was silent for a moment, and then smiled.

“But you know, Levi,” she said, grinning now, “You’re quite reckless for an old man. There’s hope for you yet.”

He half-understood her cryptic comment and didn’t ask for any explanation. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He simply inhaled and replied, “Perhaps.”

 

—

Was his life routine after all? He wondered this as he was walking down the sidewalk towards the grocery store nearest to his house. It was only a few blocks away, so he didn’t mind the walk, but it’s was 4:30 a.m. and he was feeling restless. Walking so late at night (or early in the morning) felt both natural and disconcerting.

There was always a vivid familiarity, and it was like he was 16 all over again, walking home at 10:00 at night because he didn’t want to leave school. He did as much in high school as he possible could—he joined clubs and teams that took up all of his time and kept him at school all day long, because even though interacting with people all day was annoying, being at home was worse.

 _I’m not 16_ , Levi thought to himself.

Maybe it felt like the same street and the same sidewalk, but it wasn’t. He was 29 and there were no police sirens ringing in the distance. His apartment no longer shook with every passing of the train—instead it shook with Hanji’s laughter. He even had a fucking flower bed on his balcony, for god’s sake.

 _I am not 16_ , he thought to himself again, trying to shake the feeling of danger and disappointment left over from over 10 years ago, found on another street in another time and another neighborhood in another city.

But he was still Levi, walking in the same skin with his weight supported by the same bones, and the feeling carried.

There were no police sirens or wailing anymore, though, and that soothed him.

“Being old isn’t so bad,” he said to himself aloud as he walked through the automatic doors of the store, fluorescent lighting nearly blinding him. “I deserve to be old, god damn it.”

He automatically walked towards the cleaning supplies aisle and searched for his favorite brand of bleach as he came upon the shelves. Hanji had spilled a bit of wine on his white carpet and it was driving him crazy. He was awake anyway and felt restless, so of course a trip to the store to buy bleach seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do when it was approaching 5:00 a.m. and still dark out.

His eyes scanned the rows of colorful bottles until he reached out and grabbed a specific one, holding it in his hands and pausing to look at it.

“Is this being reckless?” he said to himself, chuckling.

“Bleach is rather dangerous if used improperly, so I guess it could be considered reckless,” said a familiar voice behind him. Levi inhaled and turned around.

“Eren,” he said.

“Hey,” said Eren with a slight smile. His face was inexplicably flushed. Levi looked down at Eren’s shopping basket, which contained a carton of eggs, a bag of oranges, a bottle of milk, and sausage.

Eren noticed him looking and explained, “Oh, I was getting things to make breakfast, if you’re wondering why I’m here so early. My fridge was empty.”

Levi nodded.

“Bleach,” he said simply as he held up the bottle in his hand, as if it were a sufficient explanation.

“Gotcha,” said Eren, nodding a little too much. “Bleach. Makes sense.”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed, noticing the odd way Eren was acting and the slight redness of his face. It then struck him that he had seen Eren like this once before.

“Have you been drinking?” Levi asked.

“Only a little,” Eren admitted. “I’m not drunk. Just slightly… dazed.”

It was true—Eren didn’t _look_ drunk. He seemed to be functioning fine, though he still seemed a slightly affected by the alcohol. He was morose and a little fidgety, too, and Levi wasn’t sure that was a result of his drinking.

“It’s not even 5:00 in the morning, brat. Jesus Christ, do you have drinking problem?”

“I hate drinking,” Eren said with a frown. It seemed almost wrong, that frown on his face. Every time Levi saw Eren, the boy was smiling or laughing, save for the first night they met; Eren was upset and drunk then. He was beginning to notice a pattern.

“You’re a sad drunk,” said Levi.

“I’m not drunk,” said Eren once more.

Sighing, Levi let the topic go. Eren seemed functioning enough, he supposed. But honestly, it was a ridiculous time to be drinking, even if college-age students were known for being wild. Then again, he was in no position to talk, considering his own college days.

They walked in silence together towards the only working check-out line. Eren wasn’t sending him creepy periodic glances like he normally did the times they were together, and this actually concerned Levi.

“Why the hell do we always meet like this?” said Levi finally.

“Meet like what?” said Eren.

“Like _this_. At the bar, at the coffee shop, at the grocery store. 10:00 at night, 6:00 in the morning, 4:00 in the morning. Jesus. Are you always up when I’m up? Do we have the same urges to go to the same places at the same times?” Levi was getting slightly frustrated, although he had no idea why.

“Huh,” said Eren simply. They walked for a while in silence towards the cashier. “Coincidences, I guess.”

“‘Coincidences,’” Levi repeated.

“Yeah,” said Eren. “Or maybe it’s fate.”

Levi scoffed and said, “I don’t believe in fate.”

“I don’t either,” said Eren. “It’s kind of nice to think about, though. It’s romantic,” he said, a slightly goofy smile plastered on his previously morose face.

Levi was taken aback, not expecting that answer. It made him uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Levi said after they purchased their items and were headed out the door, “getting drunk and letting me fuck you is real romantic.”

Eren laughed, stopping to look at him.

“What?” said Levi.

“I can’t tell if you’re guarded or one of the most honest people I’ve ever met,” said Eren, not breaking his eye contact. Levi suddenly felt naked.

“Maybe you should just appreciate the ambiguities in life,” he said, looking away.

“I probably should,” Eren admitted. “But isn’t there something exhilarating about clarity and honesty?”

Eren kept his eyes on him, a sweet smile still on his face. Levi mentally traced the slope of his brows, upturned in a ridiculously innocent and questioning expression, and his still-pink cheeks only added to the effect. This only made him more frustrated, not only because it was cute as fuck, but because there was no actual questioning in Eren’s question, because _yes, of course, of course it’s exhilarating to live and interact with utter clarity and honesty, you little shit._

“It is,” said Levi reluctantly. “God, you’re surprisingly well-adjusted for someone who likes to get half-drunk before sunrise.”

Eren’s smile settled into a hard line, suddenly serious at Levi’s comment. “You think so?” Eren said.

“Think what?” said Levi.

“That I’m well-adjusted?”

Eren’s eyes looked heavy with his own lashes, and his breathing was slightly heavier than normal. The two men were walking just outside the grocery store now and the cold air caused Eren to pull his jacket on tighter, covering himself and trying to get warm.

“You seem well-adjusted enough, but I don’t know. Are you?” said Levi, not wanting to assume anything. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat and looked at Eren from the corner of his eye as they walked side-by-side. Neither of them acknowledged that this was not the way to Eren’s apartment.

Eren opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He looked at the ground and pulled his coat on tighter.

Levi stopped walking.

“All right, what’s wrong?” he said. Eren stopped in his tracks and looked back at him, blinking.

“What do you mean?” said Eren.

“Why the hell are you sad?”

Eren looked surprised.

“Did you actually care?” he said, genuinely curious and not meaning to imply that Levi was cold-hearted, but the question still stung anway.

Levi sighed. “You’re a sad millennial and I’m a teacher—even if I’m not _your_ teacher, I’ve been conditioned to care.”

Still looking at him with surprise, Eren said, "You really want to hear about my pathetic white boy issues?”

Levi let out a short, bitter laugh and resumed walking.

“Eren, I am the king of pathetic white boy issues.”

 

—

This time, Eren could appreciate Levi’s apartment without being rushed out the door half-naked. It was nice and somewhat spacious; Eren’s eyes immediately went to the bookshelf in the living room, and he wondered what kinds of books Levi liked to read. He really didn’t know much about him, Eren realized.

“You can sit down on the couch,” said Levi as he took off his coat and put away his bleach; fixing that wine stain would have to wait.

Eren was still slightly dizzy from the alcohol, although he was sobering up now. He walked over and sat down, almost stumbling. Levi eyed him with concern: Eren really did not take alcohol well. He noted that for future reference.

Levi sat down on a seat near the couch, and Eren felt like the man was a therapist, ready to listen to the patient. He felt self-conscious and unsure—was he supposed to tell Levi what was bothering him? It was why he came here, after all; Levi asked, Levi invited. He looked bored and apathetic all the time, but here he was, actually concerned about Eren.

Eren felt the sudden urge to cry. (Maybe it was the alcohol, but maybe not.)

So he opened his mouth and threw away his apprehension and caution, because why bother to be guarded when someone actually cared?

He wasn’t sure how to start or what to say, but eventually he found the words “My father is an absolute piece of shit” coming out of his mouth, and things spiraled from there.

In an hour Levi learned a few crucial things about Eren’s life story: his father had left him and his sister (for reasons Eren had yet to explain) when they were young, leaving his mother to take care of them. They had been quite poor, and Eren’s mother died when he was 13, leaving him and his sister in the care of a distant relative.

“It’s not even that I’m mad about him leaving us,” said Eren. “Well, I _am_ mad about that, but he left, and it was just me and Mikasa and our mom. Why couldn’t he just stay away?”

Eren explained the way Grisha—his father—sometimes popped in and out of their lives whenever he pleased, although he was gone most of the time. Lately, though, he had been trying to contact Eren and re-establish their relationship.

“He called me up tonight and I was going to hang up, but then he started talking about my mother,” Eren said. His hands were shaking with anger now, and his breath was unsteady. “Where the fuck does he get off talking about my mother? He has no fucking right.”

He covered his eyes with his hand, frustration getting the better of him. Levi wondered briefly if he was crying, because his voice sounded so wrecked when the next words came out of his mouth:

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

At this, Levi felt as broken as Eren sounded; he felt his gut twisted in remorse as he looked down at this boy, who was young and lively but so sad.

“Am I supposed to make up with him? Like they do in movies and books? Is that what my mother would’ve wanted?” he asked, and Levi was certain that he was crying now.

Had Levi looked like that when he was younger? Had he been this sad and bitter?

 _More_ , he thought. Eren was better than he had been—smarter, more honest.

“You don’t have to,” said Levi, speaking without thinking. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I just—I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to know him. Is that so wrong?” said Eren, looking at Levi desperately for an answer. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Levi said quietly. “That’s okay.”

Eren looked almost relieved at this statement, and Levi wondered how long Eren had been waiting to hear those words. He dried his tears and sniffed, calmer now.

“Sorry,” said Eren. “I’m a fucking crybaby sometimes.”

“I can tell,” said Levi, and he immediately regretted his words, although Eren just started laughing. There was a nice ring to his laugh, Levi thought, one that filled the silence nicely.

 _Fuck me_ , he thought. He shouldn’t have been admiring the laughs of a weepy and stupidly adorable man with a best-seller and daddy issues (and maybe a slight drinking problem), but here he was. _Hanji, you bastard._

“You get talkative at night—or early morning, I guess,” said Eren.

“I’m always talkative,” said Levi.

“I’m beginning to see that,” said Eren, smiling. _Always with the smiling._

They sat in comfortable silence after that, Eren laying back on the couch and looking rather serene. He was no longer shaking with anger or crying, and this relieved Levi. Eren reminded him a bit too much of himself when he was a bit younger.

They turned their heads to the window when sunlight began filtering through, dimly lighting the room as the sun began the rise.

“What time is it?” Eren asked. He pulled out his phone. “It’s half past 6:00. Wow.”

Levi took this as Eren’s segue into leaving, so he got up and prepared to lead him out the door.

“You want some breakfast?” Eren asked as he lazily ran his finger through his hair, looking as if he had just woken up and not like he had just cried and spilled his guts for the past hour and a half. “I have all the stuff I bought at the store.”

He asked this so casually, and Levi wondered if Eren had any sense of context or awareness of his surroundings.

Then again, Levi did invite him back to his apartment to talk about his problems. Breakfast seemed more casual—but so casual it was intimate. He had breakfast with Hanji and Erwin, and occasionally Petra and Oluo, but never strangers, and not in his own home.

He was prepared to say no, because that was the reasonable thing to do. That was the normal thing to do. It’s what he would say in any other situation, because he had no interest in making small talk with strangers over breakfast.

“Sure,” said Levi indifferently.

He blamed his answer on the fact that his fridge was almost empty and he didn’t feel like going out for breakfast. He blamed it on the fact that maybe Eren was asking because he needed to be around someone still.

He began to wonder when his self-control had gotten so weak, and, more importantly, why.

Eren got up and walked into his kitchen, acting so familiar with it as if he hadn’t only been here once before. He looked around for more ingredients and cooking utensils. The rattling and clamoring among the silence echoed in Levi’s ears.

“Where do you keep your knives?” he shouted from the kitchen as Levi still sat in his living room.

“Second drawer to the left,” he answered, getting up to join Eren in the kitchen.

Eren began working, looking perfectly content, while Levi stood against the counter. He pulled out his phone and began to text Hanji, knowing he’d regret it later when she made a fuss of it.

 

> **LEVI:** Eren Yeager is making breakfast for me in my apartment.

Eren began taking out the ingredients from his grocery bag. He asked Levi if he had a whisk, and Levi said it was in the cabinet right above him. Eren reached up to open it and grab the whisk, his shirt riding up so that Levi could see a few inches of his hard, tan back. The curve of his spine dipped inward, and Levi followed it with his eyes.

 

> **HANJI:** Hahahaha, YOU’RE FUCKED.


	5. Erwin Smith followed you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual frustration, hypocrisy. Erwin may or may not be a democratic socialist, from the look of things.

 

“You’re looking at me,” said Levi. He took a bite of his omelet, and stared right back at Eren, who kept glancing at him. _Fuck, this is delicious._

“Sorry,” said Eren.

“No, you’re not,” said Levi.

“No, I’m not,” Eren agreed.

“What happened to the blushy mess back at the coffee shop?” said Levi, remembering Eren’s initial nervousness during their morning meeting at Café Maria.

“Well,” said Eren, “I’m in your house and you’re eating my eggs right now. So.”

 _True_ , Levi thought.

“I also commented on your pee and lack of a soul back then,” said Eren. “I think I’m past all the embarrassed blushing.”

Levi raised an eyebrow and said, “Are you now?”

“So,” said Eren, ignoring Levi’s question, “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Really?” said Levi dryly.

“It’s an honest question!” said Eren.

Levi sighed and started to regret letting Eren stay over for breakfast ( _this damn omelet, though—_ ); he hated making small talk, but he supposed he would indulge him just this once.

“I like to clean,” said Levi. Eren laughed.

“No, seriously. What do you like to do?” he said.

“I buy bleach at 4:00 in the morning. You think I’m fucking around?”

“No, sir,” said Eren. “Not at all. I take your bleaching endeavors with the utmost seriousness.”

“Shut up,” said Levi.

“Yes, sir,” said Eren.

“You’re an annoying shitstain, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told, sir,” said Eren, trying to feign formality and hold back his smile.

“I hate you,” said Levi.

“You’re so subtle, sir,” said Eren, not bothering to refrain from smiling now.

Levi gave an exaggerated sigh and Eren thought that his grimace looked slightly like a smile. He tried to suppress his growing satisfaction at having possibly made Levi smile, but inside him the feeling was straining—just like the almost-but-not-quite-upturned corners of Levi’s mouth.

“You’re staring again,” said Levi. Eren smiled with only the slightest hint of guilt.

“Sorry.”

—

“How’d you like the omelet?” asked Eren when they were finished with their breakfast and cleaning up their mess.

 _It was freakishly delicious._ “It was fine,” said Levi.

“I’ll make pancakes next time,” said Eren. “Not going to lie: my pancakes are pretty amazing.”

_‘Next time’?_

Eren began taking the dishes to the sink and washing them. While he appreciated the gesture, Levi didn’t exactly trust Eren to wash them properly. He eyed Eren’s sloppy dishwashing with suspicion.

More than that, though, the thought of Eren doing his dishes was disconcerting. Coming over and making breakfast was weird enough, and he wondered how long this was going to go on. He felt himself swinging between awkwardness and enjoyment the entire time, and this discord was more than little uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” said Levi. “Let me do that.”

“No! I’ll do it,” said Eren.

“No, really, I’d rather you leave that to me,” said Levi.

“Come on, _sir_. Just relax and let me wash them.”

“ _Eren_.”

“Yes, sir?”

Eren calling him “sir” left Levi with feelings of discomfort, amusement, and odd arousal, and the ambivalence was beyond irritating. Frustration built up inside of him.

Levi placed both hands on the counter, effectively trapping Eren in the space between his arms. He leaned into him, his lips close to Eren’s ear.

“I think you’re overstepping your boundaries,” said Levi in a low voice.

Eren felt Levi’s body heat against his back, felt his arm brushing against his own, and his mind went back to the first night they met—the heat and the sweat and the heavy breathing. Memories of that night and familiar sensations were invading him now, only this time he knew Levi’s name and personality and fleeting smile. The thought of all of this made Eren go hot, and he knew that his ears were burning and that Levi could probably see them very clearly. He felt Levi’s breath against the shell of ear and his heart was pounding so loudly that he could hardly hear Levi breathing right against him.

 _You hypocrite_ , thought Eren (and he _swore_ he felt Levi move a little closer), but he couldn’t voice his accusation out loud because his throat was dry and he could barely get any air.

Eren swallowed and Levi watched as his adam’s apple moved up and down, watched as Eren got progressively more red and his breathing got heavier. The boy’s mouth was left slightly open and he licked his lips. He couldn’t look at Levi without awkwardly craning his neck, although he didn’t think he could move or look at him right then even if he tried.

Levi knew he was a hypocrite, because he was overstepping every boundary and he couldn’t look away from the boy in front of him. He was watching Eren and taking in everything about him with an intensity that couldn’t be forgiven—more intensely than any time Eren had stared at him.

(Like Eren, he wasn’t sorry either.)

“I thought you said you were over the blushing,” said Levi, and the vibration of his words and his exhale brushing against Eren’s neck were too much to handle, too hot and too soon and too god damn good and Eren had to remind himself—

_Don’t burst, don’t burst, oh my god._

His phone ringtone sounded and he let out a startled exhale that sounded a lot like a groan.

“I—I have to get that,” he said and removed himself from cage of Levi’s arms. His eyes were firmly set on his phone, unable to look Levi in the eyes.

He fumbled slightly when grabbing it, and he regained his steady breathing as he checked who had contacted him.

Jean had text messaged him, and Eren had never been so happy to see his stupid name on his phone screen.

> **Jean Valjean:** Eren go check twitter omFG

Eren made a face at Jean’s improper texting, then typed a quick reply. He was too aware of Levi behind him, watching his back.

> **Loser:** Jean, don’t text like that.
> 
> **Jean Valjean:** I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR PRETENTIOUS ENGLISH BULLSHIT JUST DO IT

Eren did as Jean asked. His eyes widened.

“What is it?” said Levi, who was now standing next to Eren—but at an appropriate distance away, he noticed.

“‘Erwin Smith followed you,’” Eren read from his Twitter notifications.

“Oh my god,” said Levi as he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hanji,” he said with a sigh.

“What?” said Eren. “It’s not that weird.”

“You’ll see,” said Levi knowingly.

 

> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** I’m honored to be here on twitter
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** Thank you to all my followers! I can’t believe i already have 20
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** Make no mistake, though; i do not advocate cults or cult-like behavior.
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** _@hungryhanji_ yes! Bernie Sanders’ popularity is surprising considering his socialist views, but i would hesitate to get your hopes up considering Clinton wil be run
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** _@hungryhanji_ yes! Bernie Sanders’ popularity is surprising considering his socialist views, but i would hesitate to get your hopes up considering Clinton will be ru
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** _@hungryhanji_ yes! Bernie Sanders’ popularity is surprising considering his socialist views, but i would hesitate to get your hopes up considering Clinton will be ru
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** Alert to all my followers: twitter may be malfunctioning! Should we notify the creators of twitter? Does anyone have their telephone nunber?
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** Numbr*
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** Number*
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** Never mind. I was not aware of the 140 character limit. my apologies.
> 
> **Ymir (@kristahasabigbutt)** : _@erwins_ has a dig bick
> 
> **Erwin Smith (@erwins):** _@kristahasabigbutt_ hello Ymir! What does that mean? :-) (thank you for following me! I hope your studies are going well.)

“Um.”

“Yeah,” said Levi.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“He joined yesterday and he already has nearly 300 followers,” said Eren with mild surprise.

“Jesus Christ,” said Levi, and their previous sexual tension almost melted away with the discovery of Erwin Smith’s Twitter account. Almost.

(Levi was standing only inches away from Eren now— _when did he get so close?_ )

 

* * *

 

“She’s really quite nice, honestly,” Krista whispered to Armin as he was peeking at Annie through the space between the bookshelf and the books. Armin, Krista, and Ymir stood in the library, hiding between shelves, while Annie sat at a table, reading, with a stack of textbooks next to her.

“Cheaters aren’t supposed to be nice,” Armin said with a defeated sigh.

“That’s why she’s not a cheater,” said Krista.

“I know,” said Armin as he leaned his forehead against a shelf. “It’d be better for my self-esteem if she were, though.”

“Nerdy boy egos,” said Ymir with disdain as she shook her head at Armin.

“I _know_ ,” said Armin. “I’m ridiculous.”

Krista just smiled at him, confirming his words with her silence.

“Hurry up and ask her to help you already,” said Ymir. “Seriously. I never thought you were so prideful.”

“I’m not usually,” said Armin.

“Don’t start now,” said Ymir, and Armin thought once again about how ridiculous he was being. There was no shame in asking for help with schoolwork—he had just never done it before. He was usually the one _giving_ the help.

“Are you sure she won’t be annoyed by my asking?” said Armin, looking at Annie and her notoriously stoic expression.

“Not at all,” said Krista. “People just get the wrong impression of her.”

“I don’t know—she _is_ kind of mean,” said Ymir.

“Is she?” said Armin.

“Ymir,” said Krista with disapproval, “you told her she had ‘emo bangs.’ Of course she walked away from you.”

Ymir threw up her hands in defense. “People are so sensitive these days.”

“And people say _Jean_ and _Eren_ have no filter,” said Armin.

“Shut it, Bowl Cut,” said Ymir.

Armin’s eyes widened and his hand went to his hair. “I don’t have a bowl cut!”

“Ymir, stop!” said Krista. “Armin, just ask Annie for help. It’ll be fine. Just be calm and don’t talk too loudly; she’s not a morning person.”

Armin checked his cell phone and furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s 10:30 a.m.”

“She’s _really_ not a morning person,” Krista repeated.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go,” he said, and the three of them approached Annie’s table.

“Hey Annie,” said Krista. Annie looked up at her and gave her an acknowledging nod, also noticing Armin and Ymir.

“Hi,” said Armin. “We haven’t really talked, but I’m in your orgo class.”

Annie didn’t respond, only looking at him. His confidence faltered.

“I was wondering if we could study together sometime—for the upcoming exam, maybe,” he said.

Still no response. She looked at him with incredible apathy, and he was reminded of their organic chemistry professor himself. Annie seemed to have his exact same expression on right then.

“Or if you could help me with the material…” Armin said, feeling sudden nervousness.

There was no change in Annie’s expression—only a hand reaching up to brush her bangs out of her eye as she looked at him and said, “Sure.”

 

* * *

 

Feeling somewhat worn out from his morning with Levi, Eren laid sprawled out on Armin’s bed.

“So you’re telling me,” said Armin, who sat in his chair at his desk, “that you ran into my professor at the grocery store. At 4:00 in the morning.”

“Yeah, man,” said Eren with a yawn.

“And then you went back to his apartment,” said Armin, and Eren nodded in confirmation.

“And then you cried a little and made him breakfast,” said Armin slowly.

“Don’t tell Jean. He already calls me a crybaby every time I tear up.”

“Eren! Really not the point right now,” said Armin.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Eren. “It’s not really a big deal. There’s nothing going on between us. And nothing romantic happened—not really.”

Armin raised an eyebrow. “‘Not really.’ So something ‘almost-really’ romantic happened.”

“Armin, you perceptive devil, you,” said Eren.

“No, you’re just an open book,” said Armin, and Eren shrugged.

Armin wasn’t sure how to feel about Eren and his own professor doing—whatever they were doing. Were they even doing anything at all? All Armin knew was that it certainly wasn’t _nothing_.

A subconscious smile always seemed to appear when Eren talked or thought about Levi, though, and it was a nice look on him, Armin thought.

_All right. I guess if Eren is happy._

Mikasa walked into Armin’s dorm room at that moment, carrying a book in each hand.

“Some girl is getting a higher grade in math than I am?” Mikasa announced suddenly. She looked slightly offended, but more surprised than anything.

“ _What?_ ” said Armin, knowing just how smart and good at math in particular Mikasa was. She was even better than he was in that subject, he had to admit. Their calculus teacher mourned her going into pharmaceutical sciences, and now the arts.

“What does it matter? You’re an art major,” said Eren casually. They both looked at him, and he knew he was clearly missing something.

“Oh, Eren,” said Armin, and he shook his head.

“I also have a Mexican art history exam and an integral calculus test tomorrow, and I was wondering if I could study in here. My floor is too loud right now.”

“Yeah, of course,” said Armin. “We were just talking about Eren’s morning.”

Mikasa’s eyes automatically narrowed. Eren had already told her about his morning and Levi.

“He really doesn’t sound good for you,” said Mikasa.

She had heard all about this professor—brilliant but scathing. She had heard horror stories. Not to mention he was a decade older than Eren. She was scowling now. There were red flags all over this relationship.

“Like I said before, we don’t have a romantic relationship,” said Eren.

She sighed.

“Okay, fine. But you can tell him”—her voice was dangerously sharp now—“that I am taller and I probably weigh more than he does, and if he hurts you, I will literally turn him into ‘The Broken Column.’”

Eren turned to Armin and whispered, “What does that mean?”

Armin leaned in and said, “Frida Kahlo. Insides open. Much hurt.”

Eren nodded in understanding.

“Got it?” said Mikasa.

Eren smiled at her affectionately. “I love you too,” he said.

She kissed his forehead.

“Now get out—I can’t listen to you talk about your sexual tension with that old man while I’m trying to study advanced calculus,” she said, then huffed. “Seriously, some girl is _actually_ beating me in math.”

Eren and Armin looked at each other knowingly, and chanted in unison, “Annie Leonhart.”

Mikasa looked confused. “Annie _who_?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so self-indulgent, omg. I'm sorry.


	6. Autumn of junior year.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie and Sasha. Dinner. Emotions.

Mikasa knocked lightly on the door of Armin’s dorm, balancing a tray of coffees in her other hand. Armin didn’t open the door, so she knocked again after a few minutes.

“Armin?” she called. She turned the doorknob, just on the off chance that it was unlocked, and it was.

She peeked inside, only to see Armin sitting cross-legged on his bed, hunched over a textbook and surrounded by flashcards. His eyes were slightly manic and his expression was blank, and she wondered if he was really reading anything at all or if he was just lost in his own head.

“Armin,” she called again. He gasped and looked up, trance broken.

“Mikasa,” he said. “Hi.”

“You’re studying,” she said. “For chemistry, I’m guessing.”

“What else?” he said solemnly. “I’m resigned to failing organic chemistry. But what can I say? I didn’t choose the orgo life. The orgo life chose me.”

Mikasa blinked. “You’re starting to make jokes like Eren’s.”

“Oh _god_ ,” he said, his hands clutching the hair at the sides of his head. “Don’t say that! College hasn’t broken me _that_ badly.”

She smiled sympathetically at him. Setting the coffee down on a table, she walked over to him and started piling the flashcards together, then tied a rubber band around them neatly and placed them on the night stand. She picked up the textbook in front of Armin and closed it, setting that down too.

“Come on,” she said. “You need to relax. And _shower_. We can go visit Eren once you’re ready.”

He didn’t argue with her, only nodding as she pulled the blanket off of him and continued organizing all of his study materials.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I just feel awful lately.”

The combination of challenging classes (or, rather, that _one_ challenging class) and his own need for academic perfection was killing him. His friends found it almost comical at first, but now Armin was just struggling and exhausted beyond belief.

He let out a shaky sigh, his empty stomach and lack of sleep making his body feel strange and slow. Mikasa sat beside him and placed a hand on his back comfortingly.

“Come on,” she said gently. “Take a shower and we can all have lunch together. No more studying for today.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, breathing in the pleasant scent of her red scarf. It smelled clean, like laundry detergent.

“Okay,” he said, and they both got up after another minute of sitting like that.

He made his way to the showers, his body uncomfortably heavy and his throat dry. He was barely aware of his surroundings as he walked down the hall, the faces around him a blur. He wondered when he got to be such a mess. He had never struggled so much from school before, never like this. The stress and the work were taking over his life.

“Armin,” he heard a distant voice call, but it didn’t register with him.

“Armin!” it called again. He stopped, suddenly aware. His vision cleared and he turned around.

Connie was staring up at him, concerned.

“Hey man, you okay?” he said.

“Yeah,” said Armin. “I’m just tired. Sorry.”

“No, it’s cool,” said Connie. “I just wanted to let you know that you’re wearing your shirt inside out.”

Armin looked down at his shirt, and Connie was right. The seams were out and the tag at the bottom was visible.

“Oh,” said Armin. “Thanks.”

Armin kept staring down at his shirt in a daze and Connie thought he saw his eyes fluttering, threatening to close as he fell asleep right then and there, standing in the middle  of the hallway.

Armin began leaning over slightly, and Connie pushed him back up before he could start falling.

“You know what, why don’t I walk you to wherever you’re going?” said Connie, slightly nervous for Armin’s physical and mental health.

“Okay,” said Armin, closing his eyes and leaning against Connie.

“Armin—hey, Armin! Don’t fall asleep!”

—

Connie sat outside the bathroom, waiting for Armin to finish showering. Sasha came across him in the hall, noticing him in the corner. She backtracked and squatted down next to him. Taking out a candy bar, she unwrapped it and held it out for him. He took a bite wordlessly.

“So, why are we sitting out here?” she asked, taking a bite herself.

“I don’t want to leave Armin alone. He’s in this weird zombie state and I think he needs a little help.”

Sasha nodded and sat next to him, stretching out her legs.

Connie glanced over her and smiled. “You got a chocolate right there,” he said as he reached out and wiped it away from the corner of her mouth.

“Hey,” she said, eyes following the smudge of chocolate on his thumb, “I was going to eat that!”

Just then, the bathroom door opened and Armin walked out carrying a towel and a bag of dirty clothes. He brushed the damp hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, hey Sasha,” he said, looking down at the two.

Armin’s eyes looked much more alive now, and his complexion was brighter.

“What are you guys doing out here?” he said.

“Making sure you don’t die,” she said.

“Oh,” said Armin, slightly confused. “Okay then.”

“Do you feel better now? Do you need us to walk with you?” said Connie.

“Thanks, guys,” said Armin, “but I feel better now. Mikasa and I are just going to head over to Eren’s house.”

Sasha nearly choked on her candy bar.

“What?” they both screamed.

“Like, Eren _Yeager_?” said Connie, looking up at Armin as he repeatedly swatted Sasha’s back, trying to keep her from choking.

“Yeah,” said Armin.

“Whoa. I know you guys are friends, but you just get to hang out with him like that. Wow. Wow,” said Connie.

Armin thought for a moment, wondering if Mikasa wanted to spend the day exclusively with three of them. He figured she wouldn’t care too much—they would see Eren either way.

“Do you guys want to—”

“Yes!” they both said, jumping up and running to Armin’s room.

 

* * *

 

A drip of cold water streamed down Eren’s face, pooling in the corner of his mouth. Still half-unconscious, he lifted his hand and wiped it away.

_Am I crying?_

He was then aware of the ridiculously cold sensation at the top of his head, and his eyes shot wide open. Through his bleary vision he could see a figure on his bed.

“Armin?” he said in a scratchy voice.

Armin looked up from his book and said, “Good morning. Or good afternoon, I should say.”

Eren sat up in his chair and his hand went to the top of his freezing head. He felt small, ice-cold bumps. His fingers sunk into the material and he pulled it down.

“Why the fuck is there a bag of frozen peas on my head?” said Eren incredulously.

Armin just smiled at him. “I was defrosting them for lunch,” he said cheerily. “You also looked like you could use a semi-hair-washing from the condensation.”

“I’m _freezing_ ,” said Eren with irritation as he threw the bag to side.

“Hey, I was going to eat that!” said Armin.

Eren took the pillow in his arms and lightly whacked Armin with it.

“You _pendejo_ ,” said Eren. Armin took the pillow and placed it against his back for support as he sat.

“Eren,” said Armin, “I did not tutor you in Spanish for two years so you could call me a pubic hair.” Eren shrugged. “Speaking of hair-related things, yours is a mess. When’s the last time you showered?”

“Two minutes ago, apparently. Hey, did you get a haircut?” said Eren, noting the slight change in Armin’s hair. It was slightly thinner now, but basically the same style.

“Yeah,” said Armin, frowning slightly. “I don’t have a bowl cut, right?”

Eren grinned. “Aw, Armin.” He moved over and vigorously ruffled Armin’s hair. “Your hair’s cute, I promise!”

“Stop it!” said Armin, laughing as Eren used both hands to mess up Armin’s hair. He started kicking at Eren’s leg, laughing harder as Eren used one hand to tickle his sides.

“Sto—oh my god,” said Armin through laughs.

“I’ll teach you to bathe me in peas!”

“Hey, I need those peas for lunch,” said Mikasa as she walked into the room. “You’re finally awake,” she said to Eren.

Eren looked over to his alarm clock, which read “1:23 p.m.”

“Holy shit,” said Eren.

“Yeah,” said Armin. “We’ve been here for a little while now, and I tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t budge.”

“I was up late last night.”

“You were up late for the past _three_ nights,” said Mikasa. “We haven’t seen you in a week.” She looked at his current state with concern. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

“I know, I know,” said Eren, scratching the back of his head. “I was just working on that short story for the collection. You know how huge this is.”

“Yes,” said Mikasa, “but you also need to shower. And _eat_.”

“I guess,” said Eren.

Eren ruffled his hair and instantly regretted it. It was matted with days’ worth of sweat and oil, his fingers caught in the thick, coated tufts of hair. Levi would’ve been disgusted.

“Ugh,” he said, bringing down his hand and wiping it on his sweatpants. “I’m going to shower.”

—

Connie and Sasha scoured every inch of the apartment, moving quietly and quickly. Connie squatted down at the coffee table in the living room and peered at the objects laying there. Bringing his face closer and closer to a coaster on the table until his nose almost touched it, he hummed in wonder.

“A coaster _and_ a doily. Yet there are still cup rings on the table. Hmm.”

Upon hearing his, Sasha walked swiftly over to the table and kneeled alongside Connie.

“How odd,” she said, squinting in suspicion. Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a small, handheld notebook and a pen and began jotting down notes.

“Make sure to note that the coaster and doily look unused,” said Connie, and Sasha nodded and continued to write intently.

Connie’s eyes widened.

“The doily—is that Argentella Point lace?! Why would a _doily_ be made out of Argentella Point? It’s too delicate to be used for something like a doily. It defies all logic. This is preposterous.”

Sasha dropped her pen in shock and inhaled sharply. She turned to look at Connie, eyes wide.

“What could this mean?” she whispered.

Connie stroked his chin. “I don’t know. All I know is that the Yeager household has many more secrets and mysteries to behold, and _we’re_ going to witness them first-hand. _And_ get autographs.”

“ _Cool_ ,” she whispered, then remembered her notebook and scrawled, “The Doily-Argentella Point Contradiction - 21/7.”

Eren walked out of his bedroom with wet hair and clean clothes. He caught sight of Connie and Sasha.

“Hey,” he said with surprise.

“Hi!” said Sasha, immediately jumping up from her sitting position. Connie followed soon after and said hello.

“I invited them to stay for lunch,” Armin explained.

“Oh, cool,” said Eren.

Lunch was a casual affair with everyone sitting at the kitchen table, though you could never tell with the way Connie and Sasha were acting. They hung on to Eren’s every word.

“So yeah, I don’t really get why velvet is so popular,” said Eren.

“I completely agree,” said Sasha with mouth full of rice. “Velvet is so overrated.”

“I’m going to throw away all my velvet pants as soon as I get home,” said Connie. “I can’t believe I own anything velvet at all. What a disgrace.”

“Well, I mean, velvet isn’t _that_ bad,” said Eren.

“Yeah, no, velvet is okay,” said Sasha.

“Yeah, I even own some velvet pants!” said Connie.

Eren stared at them blankly. Their eyes were hopeful and admiring, though he didn’t catch the half of it. He was about to open his mouth and say something, but stopped himself and chuckled instead.

“You guys are cool,” he said smiling as he took a sip of water.

Sasha struggled to swallow her rice and Connie silently pumped his fist in celebration. Eren only shrugged at the odd their odd behavior, not thinking too much of it. He just continued to shovel food in his mouth eagerly, moaning in pleasure at the taste.

“This is so good,” he said. “It’s like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” said Armin. Mikasa wondered if Eren’s arms looked thinner than usual, then  proceeded to pile more sausage onto his plate. She then noticed Armin’s face, and his cheeks looked a little hollow. She put extra sausage on his plate too.

“No thanks, Mikasa. I’m full,” said Armin. She only looked at him and pursed her lips.

“I mean, thank you. I’d love to eat more,” Armin said as he reluctantly began to eat again.

She gave a small smile, pleased. “That’s what I thought.”

She looked over the table at everyone eating and let out a relaxed sigh.

 

* * *

 

“Eren says he can’t make it to the movies today,” said Hanji as she sat on Erwin’s desk, kicking her legs in the air. “He’s spending time with friends and family.”

“Ah,” said Erwin. “Maybe next time, then.”

“Levi will be so disappointed,” she said.

Erwin smiled. “I’m sure we can make it up to him somehow.”

“Erwin!” said Hanji. “Are you finally aboard Operation: Attack on Levi’s Dick featuring Eren Yeager?”

“Perhaps.”

Hanji’s eyes glazed over in excitement. “I thought you said it was strange.”

“Well,” said Erwin, “I did think it was a bit strange. And I don’t love interfering with someone else’s love life.”

“But?” said Hanji.

“But I caught Levi humming yesterday.”

Hanji cocked her head. “Humming?”

“Yes. Humming a… a tune.”

Her eyes widened. “My _god_.”

The door of Erwin’s office opened and Levi walked in. A grey scarf was wrapped around his neck and he wore a nice, black coat in preparation for their night out.

“Hanji,” he said, “get off the desk and stop leaving butt marks everywhere. I’m tired of wiping down all the tables.”

“How else will I mark my territory?” she said.

“Well, don’t start pissing everywhere. Like that one night in college outside the bar and the bathroom was out of order—”

“Ah, college was such a good time,” she said.

“My fucking shoes, Hanji. I had to throw them away.”

“What a night,” she said fondly. “You don’t pee outdoors every day, you know. If only snapchat existed back then.” She chuckled.

“What the hell is ‘snapchat’?” said Levi. He kept hearing about it everywhere.

Hanji ignored his question and got off the desk. She smoothed her clothes and looked at the clock.

“Well, it’s almost 6:00 p.m. We need to go if we want to make our reservation.”

“Where did you make reservations?” asked Erwin as he stood up and began putting away his paperwork.

“Oh,” said Hanji with a smile. “You know—just a restaurant.”

—

He was relieved to find out that Eren couldn’t make the movie—between what happened at breakfast recently and every other strange aspect of their relationship, Levi didn’t need to spend another night with him, which would inevitably end up in a mess of perplexing sensations that may or may not have been _emotions_ , like it always did. It was almost infuriating, strangely.

He was disappointed, too, but he chose not to think about that too much.

Upon entering the restaurant, Levi sensed that something wasn’t right. Hanji was scanning the crowd like she was looking for someone, trying to spot a particular person in the crowded room or a specific voice among the din.

The maître d' greeted them and led the three to a table.

“Here’s your table, as you requested,” said the waiter. He hid his slight confusion at Hanji’s request to be seated at this particular table next to another table right by the patio. Levi didn’t think too much of it considering it was Hanji and she always did odd things for one reason or another, but Erwin glanced at her knowingly.

“You made a reservation at The Wall and specifically requested the table adjacent to the table by the patio,” said Erwin.

“Yup,” said Hanji as she began unfolding her cloth napkin.

“Is he going to be here tonight?” said Erwin with amusement.

“Of course,” said Hanji. “Why else would I choose to sit here?”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” said Levi.

“Well,” said Erwin, “there’s a certain someone who has dinner at The Wall every Saturday and sits at the table by the patio.”

“There he is now,” said Hanji with glee, looking ahead at an approaching group of three people—two young and female, and the other an older man.

As the group drew nearer to the table the older man saw them and said, “Erwin, Hanji!”

“Hello Pixis,” said Erwin. “Rico, Hitch. It’s lovely to see you two.”

“Hey guys,” said Hanji. Hitch looked bored and mildly exasperated at the thought of spending a stuffy dinner with two of her professors, but she greeted them nonetheless.

Pixis spotted Levi, whom he had never previously seen, and held out his hand.

“Dot Pixis,” he said as they shook hands. The name sounded familiar. Levi sighed inwardly—he hated shaking hands with strangers. When his hands met Pixis’, Levi almost cringed, the feel of warm, age-loosened skin against hard bone giving him the urge to squirm.

“Levi,” he replied.

“‘Levi’ what?”

“Just Levi.”

“It’s just a thing, Grandpa,” said Hitch. “Professor Levi has no family name. Or, at least, no one at school knows it.” Her face told everyone that she had tried to find out his last name before.

Levi made no comment about his lack of a last name and Pixis looked at him, a little intrigued. He made no comment about it either.

“Levi’s just special,” said Hanji. “One name only. Like Cher.”

“I’m Rico Brzenska, Mr. Pixis’s literary agent. Nice to meet you,” said the other woman, and Levi had to shake yet another hand. He looked her over, noting the tightly wound straps that held her glasses to her head, and thought she must’ve been an efficient, no-nonsense kind of worker. Her grip was tight and her skin was cold and smooth, but he still disliked touching a stranger.

Everyone say at their respective tables but maintained a unified conversation. It was only ten minutes into the dinner that Levi realized why Hanji wanted to meet Pixis here.

“How’s work on your part of the short story collection proceeding, Pixis?” said Erwin.

“I’m having a little trouble, I must admit. I suppose that was to be expected, considering the nature of the work.”

“What exactly is the collection about?” said Hanji. She knew exactly what it was about, of course, but asked anyway.

“Garrison Publishing is taking the ten American authors most prominent in the literary scene this year and having them write short stories that are completely different their usual style,” said Rico. “It’s supposed to represent growth of some sorts, combatting stagnant and stale writing.”

“It also garners a lot of publicity,” said Pixis, qualifying Rico’s pleasant description.

“Yes,” she said with a hint of a smile, “that too.”

“I wonder what Eren Yeager is going to write,” said Hitch with a slight dreamy quality in her voice. “It’ll be brilliant, of course. I can’t wait.”

“Oh!” said Hanji a little too loudly, drawing out the sound. “Eren Yeager is also contributing a story? Tell me _more_.”

She was so fucking obvious, Levi thought. Why did she have to bring up Eren every god damn time? Why couldn’t he just eat his maultaschen and drink his wine in peace? Why did Eren Yeager have to stir up every conversation, even when he wasn’t here?

“He said he was working on a more character-centered piece, much more so than in _Attack on Titan_ , but he hasn’t given me any real details. I think he’s struggling with this,” said Rico.

Why did he want to know, then? Why did he want Rico to keep talking and tell him every detail about Eren’s damn story?

He couldn’t escape his own curiosity and he couldn’t escape Eren, and he wished he knew why but at the same time he already knew why and wished he didn’t. Why did he feel so out of control?

He was starting to hate all the questions.

He gripped his wine glass too tightly, and when he brought it up to his lips he was too mindless, spilling some on his pant leg. It was barely visible, only a few drops of wine, but it bothered him to no end. _Everything_ was bothering him.

He harshly scrubbed the wine out of his pant leg, but he wasn’t satisfied. He stood up abruptly.

“Where are you going?” said Hanji.

“To the bathroom,” said Levi between clenched teeth. “Come with me.”

Hanji’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “You’re finally conforming to the ‘girls go to the bathroom in packs’ rule? Yay!” She sat up and prepared herself to go with him. “I’m so happy we can participate in these social norms together.”

As soon as they reached the empty hallway outside the bathroom, Levi turned around and said, “Stop bringing him up all the fucking time.”

“Why?” said Hanji immediately. “Why should I?”

Levi’s eyes widened—Hanji said this almost aggressively and a little more seriously than he expected.

“It’s annoying as hell,” was all he could say.

“So what?” she said quickly. “Everything is annoying. People are annoying and you interact with them every day.”

“Just _stop_ ,” he said, something in him snapping at Hanji like never before—not since the first time he met her when he wasn’t used to all her oddness and pushiness. “Why do you keep bringing him up all the time?” He was almost yelling now. “I know you love to fucking push push _push_ all the time, god knows _why_ , but for once, just drop it!”

“Autumn of junior year,” she said.

“What?” said Levi.

“Autumn of junior year—that’s why,” she said again.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We were both juniors at Shiganshina U. It was October 23 and we were sitting in my dorm room getting high as a kite.”

Levi’s brows furrowed, his tense stance loosening a bit. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You were high and you told me how much you loved Hillary Clinton’s pant suits even though other people criticized them. I still think you’re wrong, but whatever.”

“I swear to god, Hanji—”

“And then you told me—” she continued urgently, cutting him off, and her voice wavered not in excitement but in a kind of melancholy he never really knew she possessed. “You told me you wished you had someone to take your hand while you walked the streets at night.”

Levi paused, taking in her words. “ _What_? That’s _it_? That’s why you keep pushing this guy onto my lap—because one time nine years ago I got stoned and said I want to hold hands with someone?”

It was a bit of a stretch, even by Hanji’s standards.

She licked her lips and shook her head. She brought up her both her hands and placed them firmly on his shoulders, squeezing them as if it would help him get the message.

“You told me,” she said, more slowly this time, “that on a dusty crossroad in Jupiter, in the middle of the night, when the raining diamonds felt like pouring cold piss all over you and your shitty day, you wanted someone to take your hand. Just take it.”

Levi just stared at her, almost afraid to understand what she was saying. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s obvious,” she said. “I don’t know about Jupiter or the diamond rain or the dusty crossroad—but the rest is obvious, isn’t it?”

“I say a lot of things about piss and shitty days,” he pointed out. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah it does,” she said, insistent.

“I was high,” he said.

“Yeah.” She gave him a smile, half amused and half sad. “You’re only honest like that when you’re intoxicated—and god forbid, a little poetic.”

"What's poetic about a stoned college student talking about Jupiter?" And the comment on his honestly, that was ridiculous—he was known for his blunt honesty. He didn’t like to bullshit people. She knew that. “And I'm always honest."

“No you’re not,” she said. “Not always. And you know what I mean—it's not just about that night in college. It's about every night.”

The hallway felt so much smaller now, the dim lighting hurting his eyes and the indiscernible voices of the crowd a room away filled the canal of his ear. He felt like he would choke from the sight of the glossy cream-colored wallpaper, the fine lace design, the too-white table cloth that hit the back of his knee as he stepped back against the lone table in the hallway. The vase on the table rattled slightly and the flower petals brushed against his elbow, the touch feeling strange.

“You’re not making any sense, Hanji. You never make sense.”

“ _That’s_ a lie, too. I make more sense to you and Erwin than to anyone else,” she said, and he knew she was right.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m tired. And leaving.”

“Why are you so upset?” she said. “If it doesn’t mean anything, then why are you so upset?”

“I’m leaving,” Levi said again as he walked away. Her behavior unsettled him—a rare quiet and serenity that she only reserved for moments like these, when it could do more to pierce Levi’s thick skull than all her energy.

Hanji didn’t stop him, only watching his broad back patiently as he went.


	7. Time is relative.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3,800 words of weird, weird flirting. That's really it. 
> 
> Eren loves Vonnegut and Levi doesn't give a shit. Progress is finally made, thank god. This fic continues to be kind of dumb and really self-indulgent. I've kind of accepted this. Enjoy.

As he came back to the table, the noise of the restaurant suddenly became too much for him to handle at the moment. He said his good byes and left without a wave or a glance back, relieved when he opened the door and was surrounded by cold air and the sound of heavy rain hitting the ground.

The rain, though—how would he get home without getting wet? He looked up at the awning of the restaurant, then stepped forward, holding out a hand to test the rain. He stepped back as soon as he felt the wetness hitting his palm. Wiping it against his jacket, he continued to walk along the walls of the restaurant and the buildings after it, not wanting to get soaked. Levi wouldn’t be home any time soon. He sighed.

He walked aimlessly, directed only by the path where the rain didn’t fall. His feet eventually led him to the familiar coffee shop, the one he visited every Saturday for the past few years. He hadn’t gotten a moment alone for the past few Saturdays, though, not since Eren started showing up.

Levi looked through the glass at the quaint sight before him: a few people were sitting inside, sipping coffee peacefully. His usual corner table was occupied with a student using a laptop.

The sign behind the window said “OPEN” in red letters, so he took the invitation. The familiar bell rang as he shut the door behind him, and suddenly the patter of rain muted and all he smelled was coffee. Such relief.

After he ordered his usual black coffee, he grabbed a newspaper from the stack by the door and sat down. He laid the newspaper flat on the table and was careful not to touch it too much when he turned the page; the paper and ink always made his hands feel grimy.

He was expecting a text or call from Hanji asking where he was or telling him to come back, but it never came.

Instead he got one from Eren.

 

> **Eren:** Are you’re still at The Wall? Everyone’s asleep or busy now so I think I could probably sneak away to have dinner with you guys.

It was the first text from Eren he received today, surprisingly. Eren had taken to texting him randomly and frequently ever since Hanji gave him Levi’s phone number. Levi didn’t reply half the time, but that didn’t seem to stop him.

He didn’t reply this time, either.

He debated for a while—the text left him frustrated and slightly annoyed and he knew he was being unreasonable because _he_ was the one that invited Eren back to his apartment that early morning and _he_ was supposed to be the adult, but something in him wanted to blame Eren for invading his life in such an inappropriate manner.

 _Casually_. _Intimately_.

A lot of people hated him or feared him, or at least felt uncomfortable around him, but above all, they didn’t understand him. Eren probably didn’t either.  He was just a young boy intrigued by an older man after a sexual encounter.

Levi was too old for this.

(And Eren was too young.)

His phone vibrated when he got another text, pulling him out of his thoughts, and he realized that he hadn’t been reading the newspaper for a full ten minutes.

 

> **Eren:** Hanji told me that you left?

Maybe he should’ve answered then, but he didn’t. He only sat, not really reading his newspaper anymore, wondering what the hell he was doing skipping out on a dinner and avoiding texts, cursing his own overreaction that revealed more about what he felt than any outright expression.

He was just frustrated. Frustrated and tired. He almost wished he could hear the rain again—the usually comforting and familiar noises of the coffee shop were a little suffocating now. It was too quiet, despite it all the murmurs and miscellaneous din.

It was too loud, then too quiet—he wondered when he became so capricious. He felt unsettled, like a house on loose gravel.

His phone buzzed again.

 

> **Eren:** Look up!

He froze, almost wanting to refuse to look up because he knew what it meant, but his eyes took him there anyway.

Eren behind the glass, soaked to the bone with rainwater, waving at him with giddiness in his eyes. Eren, with the sides of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile and his wet hair curling. Eren, Eren, Eren.

Levi was unsettling, just like sand at the bottom of a beating ocean.

(Would it be too cliché to compare Eren’s eyes to the ocean?)

It wasn’t unpleasant.

( _Yes, it would_.)

He swallowed as Eren moved to enter the café, and with the familiar ring of the bell at the door came the swirling hum of expectance at the bottom of his stomach.

(It was like he was a fucking teenager all over again.)

“Hey!” said Eren as he took a seat across from Levi.

“Is this another coincidence?” said Levi. “Another coincidental meeting. How many are up to now? Maybe you were onto something with that fate bullshit.”

Eren only laughed. “It’s not a coincidence. I came here because Hanji said you’d probably be here.”

“Did you need something?”

“Just a cup of hot chocolate,” said Eren as he took off his coat and placed it on the back of his chair.

_Just a cup of hot chocolate._

“I see.”

“‘Maybe you’re onto something with that fate bullshit,’” said Eren in his best impression of Levi. “I’m glad to know you’re starting to subscribe to my romanticism.”

“Right,” said Levi sarcastically. “I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Eren sat down after he ordered his hot chocolate, his back making a squelching sound as he leaned against his chair. Levi cringed. Despite Eren’s protection of Eren’s coat, the rain had still soaked through to his clothes underneath.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable being so wet?” said Levi.

“Yeah,” said Eren. “I feel pretty good at the same time, though, so it’s not too bad. The water is pretty refreshing.”

There was silence, and Levi then realized that for once they didn’t have any laptops to distract them or daddy issues to talk about.

“So,” said Eren, “why’d you ditch them at dinner?”

Eren didn’t miss the way Levi’s eyes darkened slightly.

“The room was too stuffy.”

“…Gotcha.” Eren ran his fingers through his dripping hair and Levi took another look through the window at the pouring rain against a dark sky.

“Why _are_ you here?” Levi said.

 “I already told you: for the hot chocolate.”

A bead of water from Eren’s hair ran down his cheek.

“Right,” said Levi, trying to swallow down the warmth bubbling in his chest. “‘For the hot chocolate.’”

“Well, that and I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Levi startled and his thoughts went blank for a moment, Eren’s candidness painting his mind white.

_Throw me in the river, why don’t you._

“We’ve known each other for two weeks. There’s not enough time in there for there to be ‘a while,’” said Levi almost indignantly.

“That’s not true. Time is relative, you know—you could have a forever in numbered days.”

Levi scoffed at that, almost laughing at the cheesiness. It reminded him of what Eren said the first night they met— _“Shut up and kiss me.”_ He certainly had a penchant for clichés.

“I don’t think that’s what they mean by the relativity of time, Eren,” said Levi as he flipped the page of his newspaper, determined to get through it despite the distraction. He read the newspaper every day without fail, even staying up late if he had too.

He was in the middle of reading an article about the recent death of a famous Colombian novelist when his brows furrowed in realization. He hesitated, stuck for a moment, then looked up.

“‘A forever in numbered days’—you stole that from a Josh Blue novel,” Levi said incredulously.

“It’s _John Green_ ,” said Eren with surprise. “You’ve read his books?”

“No, I hate that guy,” said Levi.

“Why?”

“Teenagers scribbling his quotes all over my damn desks. I have to stay after class once a month and scrub down them down. The ‘infinities’ quote—oh, and the fucking ‘drizzle and rain and hurricane’ one. _Fuck_. Fuck John Green. Don’t ever quote John Green at me.”

“Oh my god,” said Eren, laughing. “All right, note taken. Don’t quote John Green.”

“Never,” he said, forcing himself to look down at his newspaper again before his head snapped up with another thought.

“Oh, and that one about falling in love like you fall asleep; that one’s the worst. Red fucking permanent marker. Every time.”

“Wow, I’m really glad no one is writing _Attack on Titan_ quotes on your desks.”

“Yeah,” said Levi, looking down once again. “ _Wait_ ,” he said, looking up, “‘This world is cruel, but also very beautiful’—that’s from _Attack on Titan_. I’ve seen that three times. All in pencil.”

“Don’t hate me because I’m quotable,” said Eren with a grin. The barista called out his name, signaling that his drink was ready, but neither of them heard her. “And it was in pencil? Come on, pencil can be forgiven.”

Levi restrained himself from smiling. “Maybe. Just don’t write any more quotable books. I’m sick of pretentious vandals.”

“Eren?” the barista called again.

Eren turned around, confused for a moment before realizing he needed to get his drink. “Oh,” he said as he got up and walked to the counter.

Levi watched him walk away, noting the ways the wet shirt clung to his back and the damp hair curled at the nape of his neck. Eren left a watery trail of footprints as he walked. When Eren came back with a drink in his hand, Levi realized that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of him since he walked away.

“Okay, I stole that quote from John Green—”

“Plagiarizer.”

“—but it’s true. It’s only been a few weeks but, well, time _is_ relative. It feels like I’ve known you for a while. And it feels like I haven’t seen you in a while. So ‘a while’ _can_ exist in a few weeks. Shit, when did ‘a while’ become a valid unit of measuring time, anyway?”

“Again,” said Levi, knowing he was being nitpicky but doing it anyway, “that is _not_ what they mean by time being relative.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did they teach you _nothing_ in high school?” said Levi, frustrated at the state of the American public education system. “Okay, listen up, brat”—Eren settled in his seat and put his arms on the table, leaning in to pay attention—“let me tell you something about the relativity of time that you didn’t learn from a romantic comedy.

“Light travels at a fixed speed. It’s absolute—but space isn’t.”

“Okay,” said Eren, amused at Levi’s frustration and sudden attempt to educate him.

“Say you have light travelling from one place to another and different people observing how long it took to get there. The time it takes is the distance (or space) divided by the speed of light. Got it?” Eren nodded. “The space isn’t absolute—they’ll all disagree about how _far_ the light travelled—but the speed of light always stays the same. So if everyone divides different distances by the same speed of light, you have different answers for how long the light took to get from one place to the other.”

“ _What_?” said Eren.

“The prediction is that time actually moves slower around the earth because if its gravitational field.”

“Why?” said Eren, his brows drawn together in confusion.

“It decreases the frequency of light travelling upward. So if you were high up, you’d see everything further down was happening more slowly. It was tested in the ‘60s and the results agreed with general relativity.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Everything I know is a lie.”

 “Now you know. It’s not just a cliché saying about how spending time with a girl feels shorter than studying. I’m sick of that shit.”

“Wow.”

“How the fuck did you not learn this in high school? It’s basic.”

Eren rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed about his lack of knowledge.

“I, uh, never really paid attention in physics. Or any of my science classes, really. I mean, I paid enough attention to get a B, I guess, but I forgot all of it as soon as the tests were over. So I don’t really know much about physics or chemistry or science in general. Unless you count science fiction—which, well, I haven’t read much sci-fi either. Pretty much just Vonnegut and some soft sci-fi dystopian novels?”

“Who’s Vonnegut? The name sounds familiar,” Levi said offhandedly. He took a sip of his coffee, watching Eren as he brought it up to his lips.

“ _What_?” said Eren. He looked offended, which amused Levi.

“What?”

“How are you 40 years old and don’t know who Kurt Vonnegut is?”

Levi’s brow twitched in irritation. “I am _29_. You’re over a decade off my age. And I vaguely know his name.”

“Oh my _god_. You’re a man of science. I mean, I know Vonnegut isn’t Isaac Asimov in the sci-fi department or anything, but you didn’t even recognize his name. C’mon—time travel, Tralfamadorians, ice-nine. Anything?”

“I haven’t read Asimov either, and unless these Tralfama-ma—whatever you called it—”

“‘Tralfamadorians.’ They’re aliens.”

Levi looked at him with disbelief. “Did you just equate biochemistry to fictitious aliens?”

“ _Maybe_ ,” said Eren with a surprising amount of sass. “Well, I’m just saying. You’re kind of a disgrace to the intersection of science and literature.”

“Amazing,” said Levi, trying to be offended, but not offended at all, “you cheeky _bastard_.”

Eren was grinning, his cheeks still pink from the rain but also from pleasure from having put Levi at ease, at having made him smile again. Well, Levi did called him a “cheeky bastard” while doing do. But didn’t it hold a certain amount of amusement—of affection?

Eren looked down at his cup, watching the light reflected in the liquid, and wondered.

Eren looked up to see Levi looking out the window again— _What is he looking at?_ —and inhaled, about to ask again why he ditched the dinner and hoping he wasn’t prying too much when Levi said, still looking out the window his he gripped his cup—

“This one isn’t a coincidence, huh?”

“What?”

Levi looked at him now. “Us meeting here. This time it’s not a coincidence, right?”

“No,” said Eren. “I told you: I knew you were here. Hanji told me.”

Levi swallowed, wanting to take sip of his coffee just to have something to do, but he didn’t trust that he could drink anything at the moment.

“It’s raining really hard,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” said Eren, slightly confused.

“Do you live close to here?” said Levi.

“About a mile from here, mile and a half. Why?”

“Just wondering how long you were walking in the rain for,” Levi muttered, and Eren didn’t quite hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how pretentious you are, judging me for never reading Vogennuts.”

“ _Vonnegut_.”

“Vogennuts.”

Eren shook his head and laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

_So are you, you asshole._

“How did we even get on the topic of the relativity of time and Vonnegut, anyway?” said Eren.

Levi turned to him, accusatory and mirthful, and said, “It was you and your shitty John Green pick-up line.”

“It wasn’t a pick-up line,” said Eren.

“Yeah, okay.”

They fell into silence after that, and it all felt routine, yet new, somehow. They had been meeting at the coffee shop and other places, after all, but, despite this and the beating of the heavy rain, Levi felt light. Like there was an abundance of air, cool in his lungs and against his skin, and he had never realized before that Eren could make him feel that way.

He didn’t even know time was relative. He liked John Green. He made shitty jokes. He was 19 years old.

He made Levi feel alive. He was funny and adorable and honest as fuck and a little reckless sometimes and right now he was soaking wet for no good reason and he made Levi feel alive—every Saturday morning, every accidental run-in, all the way back to that first one-night stand when they met drunk and fucked without a condom and woke up with a hangover, he felt alive.

Alive with every shudder of his heaving body when he was buzzed and crying about Grisha Yeager, when he was invading his thoughts to the point of irritation and discomfort, when his name came up suddenly on Hanji’s lips like too-bright sunlight streaming in from 93 million miles away and so damn yellow it made Levi feel like time was shaking.

 _“Time is relative,”_ Eren had said ignorantly and Levi repeated it in his mind, and then he wanted to laugh and kick himself because, despite his pet peeve and correction of Eren’s cliché, time was relative but also _time was relative_ and right now it felt like Eren had already been buried in him from the day he started to exist and he only recently realized this.

 _“Shut up and kiss me,”_ this idiot had said. Levi did. Maybe he would do it again. The thrill and fright of this admittance seized him and he almost jumped when Eren began talking again.

“What time are you leaving?” said Eren.

“When it closes,” said Levi.

“It’s a 24-hour coffee shop.”

“I know that.”

“What?” said Eren, confused. “You’re… going to stay here forever?”

“I don’t know. You’re the expert on inexact measurements of time, Eren,” Levi said.

Eren’s own name rang in his head, and he thought in a daze that _yes, it wouldn’t be too bad to stay here forever_ , if only to see if he could get Levi to say his name again.

“Come on, brat,” said Levi. “I’ll walk you home.”

Eren supposed “brat” would suffice in the meantime, though.

Levi stood up and Eren followed suit; they began walking towards the door, but Eren stopped just as Levi was about to open it.

“You don’t have to, it’s raining pretty hard and—wait, how’re you going to get home, then?”

Levi looked at the rain, noting that it hadn’t let up at all since he entered the café. If anything, it was raining harder now.

“I’ll call Hanji, probably. Maybe walk back to the restaurant and have dinner like a normal adult.”

He held the door open for Eren, who muttered a quick “thank you,” and stepped outside.

The relative silence of the coffee shop was gone now, and Levi was filled with the almost deafening patter of the rain. It beat relentlessly against the ground. Everything was glistening and dark and wet; for some reason it didn’t grate on Levi’s nerves and make him feel disjointed like it did a few hours ago.

“I could give you a ride home once we get back to my apartment complex,” said Eren. “I couldn’t drive here because my sister used my car to drive home some of my other friends, but she should be back now.”

He looked at Eren, considering the offer, then looked in the direction of The Wall, where, he realized then, Hanji and Erwin had probably left by now. He looked beyond that, past the dark streets and cars, to the direction of the movie theater, and he couldn’t see it but he knew they were there and the movie would be starting soon. He could catch up to them if he really wanted to. He should probably apologize for leaving them in the middle of dinner and acting childish.

“Levi?”

He turned to see Eren, waiting on his answer and wondering where Levi was looking at, or maybe what he was looking for.

It was hard to tell, but Levi looked away towards the city and Eren thought Levi was almost smiling. A profile view of his almost-smile was a nice thing, Eren thought, a nice thing indeed.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, then,” he said, looking at Eren directly this time, and Eren didn’t have to wonder if Levi was searching for something else.

“Okay,” said Eren, smiling and watching his exhale of air form white puffs from the cold.

The stood motionless under the awning of the Café Maria, almost reverent before the rain, before Eren broke the silence.

“I could help you scrub those quotes off your desks next time,” he said. “If you want.”

“Sure,” said Levi. “Scrubbing off your own quotes, though. That’s kind of shitty. And John Green quotes too, I guess, since you like him.”

“What? Oh, no, I’ve never actually read any of his books.”

Levi looked at him in confusion.

“His quotes are just really popular, so I know them.”

“Oh,” said Levi.

“Plus, they make really good pick-up lines,” said Eren, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too much, and from the corner of his eye, he thought Levi was doing the same.

Levi stepped forward first, then looked back towards Eren.

“Show me the way,” he said as the deluge began to soak and wash him; his voice was muffled by the rain, but Eren could still hear him.

“We’re crossing the street first,” said Eren, pointing to across the road.

They walked side-by-side, and Eren looked over at Levi with concern. He was shivering and completely drenched, the yellow streetlight reflected in his wet black hair.

“Are you okay?” Eren said loudly, trying to overcome the sound of the rain.

“Yeah,” said Levi equally loudly. “It feels like I’m being pelted with cold piss. But I’m okay.”

When they got to the corner and waited for the light to change, Levi suddenly said, “Do you know that it rains diamonds on Jupiter?”

“What?” said Eren, unable to hear.

“On Jupiter it rains diamonds,” Levi repeated more loudly this time.

Eren wondered if he heard him right, then said, “That’s… pretty cool. Uh, not that I don’t appreciate that fact, but why are you telling me this now?”

“I don’t know,” said Levi honestly. Maybe it was because they were at a crossroads of sorts. There may not have been any hand-holding, but there was a light across from him that was about to turn white, and that was more than enough for now. Time began moving rapidly as the light changed and, for once, Levi moved with it, unstuck.


	8. A fair price to pay for being a liar.

Levi’s wet clothes clung to his skin uncomfortably. His neck itchy, he took off his scarf, careful not to put pressure on it so he wouldn’t wring the water out all over the floor. He watched as Eren pulled out a ring of keys and struggled to find the right one.

Once they got into the apartment, Eren shook his head in an effort to get the excess water out of his hair, hitting Levi with droplets.

“You’re like a dog,” said Levi as he wiped the water off his face.

“Woof. You hungry?” he said as he looked in his fridge.

“I could eat.” He had skipped out in the middle of dinner and now he was paying for it.

Eren bit his lip as he rummaged through his fridge.

“I have popsicles?”

Levi raised an eyebrow.

“Or we could order Chinese food,” said Eren.

“That’s fine.”

“Sorry. I kind of forgot to go grocery shopping this week.”

Levi took off his jacket, folding it neatly before placing it on the couch. Running a hand through his wet hair, he tried not to squirm from the feeling of wet clothes sticking to his skin.

“Now I remember why I hate rain. And getting wet,” he muttered.

“You’re like a cat,” said Eren with a lazy, smug smile.

Levi only gave him a sour look, which solidly affirmed Eren’s observation.

“Here,” said Eren as went into his bedroom, “let me get you some dry clothes.”

He came out with sweatpants and a T-shirt and tossed them to Levi.

“I’m gonna order food. You can change in the bathroom,” Eren said, then pointed to the restroom.

While Eren was taller, Levi had broader shoulders and was built thick for his size, so the shirt stretched tight across his chest and torso. The sweatpants, on the other hand, were too long, bunching up at the ankles.

Levi looked at himself in the mirror, looked at his too tight shirt and dripping wet hair, and realized he was in Eren’s bathroom wearing Eren’s clothes, and Eren had been to his apartment, but never the other way around.

He was in a foreign land, wearing a stranger’s clothes ( _he’s not really a stranger once you’ve slept with him and learned his life story_ , a voice whispered in his mind), and he wasn’t sure he really wanted Eren to take him home anymore.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

“Am I supposed to look through the medicine cabinet or something?” he said to himself.

Thinking about fulfilling clichés he’d seen in movies and television shows was probably a new low for him; he cursed his lack of experience being in a real relationship that didn’t involve shady exes or running at the first sign of commitment, because half the time he hadn’t even seen the inside of the other person’s apartment—not that he was in a relationship now, of course.

He didn’t know why he’d thought of that all of a sudden.

When Eren turned to see Levi walk out of the bathroom in his ill-fitting clothes, he pursed his lips in an effort not to smile. Levi glared at him, eyes saying, “I dare you,” and Eren said nothing this time.

—

They ended up in the laundry room, sticking each of their clothes in the dryer. Levi leaned up against the washer while Eren sat crossed-legged atop the dryer, vibrating along with it.

He let out a long and loud “Ahhhh” to feel and hear the vibration of his voice. “Leviiiiiiii—”

Levi chuckled, smacking him lightly on the arm.

“Eren,” he said sternly, but the smile on his face took away the effect of it.

Levi gestured to the other people in the room.

A woman was staring at him in confusion, her gum peeking out between her teeth and her hands paused in the middle of folding her shirt. Eren turned around to look and they continued to stare at each other awkwardly.

Levi coughed and Eren called out an apology.

Eren stifled an embarrassed laugh, then continued his voice testing in a low voice.

“Leviiiiiiii,” he whispered, the vowel sounds swinging up and down along with the shaking dryer, and he stared at Levi with a blank face and huge eyes for added creepy effect.

All he got out of it was Levi’s blank face and a hand shoving his face away gently, although, when Eren’s head was turned (his cheeks squished and lips puckered like a fish’s), Levi tried to restrain a laugh.

“So, are you staying the night? Or do you still want me to drive you home?” said Eren, voice all muffled and breathy as Levi kept shoving his face away.

His automatic response was “no,” because it was highly inappropriate and he was too old to be having sleepovers with famous authors, and his own bed would be more comfortable then whatever Eren would have him sleep on—but then the tightness of the shirt against his chest reminded him that he was already in his clothes, already spent too much time with and knew too much about Eren to say he was just that “annoying-author-of-that-one-book-that-all-the-kids-like-to-quote.”

There was Hanji’s face reflected in the large glass windows of the restaurant, and he had seen her watching him go.

He wondered what his back looked like from her view, and how many other people had watched him the same way.

Her words rang in his ears— _”If it doesn’t mean anything, then why are you so upset?”_

He had a lot flaws he could admit to: he was unfriendly, wasn’t very approachable, was too terse with strangers and too talkative with friends, liked to complain a lot, was a little shallow when it came to looks (he had a friendship with Eren now all because he had found him attractive enough to sleep with at first glance, after all), and couldn’t cook in the least.

There were also good qualities he recognized in himself, like his effort to always be fair to his students, or that was decently intelligent (maybe not as intelligent as Hanji, he admitted, but he could hold his own).

And then there was his honesty, which he prized, even if some thought he was too blunt.

As he looked over at Eren, who had resumed making noises to hear the vibration of his own voice, he wondered where his honesty had gone.

Levi let out a laugh, inaudible between the humming of the dryer and Eren’s own nonsense.  _If it doesn’t mean anything, then why I am so happy?_

Maybe he’d let Hanji gloat later—a fair price to pay for being a liar.

“I’ll stay the night,” he said. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Hey, wasn’t the Chinese food supposed to get here ten minutes ago?”

“Oh,  _shit_ ,” he said. Levi crossed his arms and leaned back lazily, too aware of his own childish joy at watching Eren rush out of the room in a panic.

—

“Eren Yeager?” she said, reading the receipt.

“Yeah. How much do I owe you?” said Eren as he pulled out his pocket.

She read a number off the receipt and he pulled out a bill, telling her to keep the change. Her name tag caught his eye as he handed her the money.

_“Annie L.”_

With a furrow of his brow, he thought back to Armin’s Annie—what was her last name? Leon? Lionheart? He just remembered that it started with an “L” and that it sounded cool. He glanced down at her pocket, a Shiganishina University keychain dangling out of it, bright orange against her black jeans.

“Do you know Armin?” said Eren, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Annie blinked, a little surprised, but still stone-faced.

“Arlert?” she said. “Why?”

“He’s a friend of mine,” said Eren with a wide grin.

Annie unconsciously took a step back, wondering what the hell Armin Arlert told him about her and why he was smiling like that.

Oh, sure, she could probably beat Eren up in a few minutes, but that smile made her cautious. Reiner would make fun of her, she thought, refraining from rolling her eyes.

“Sorry,” Eren said, noticing her confusion, “he just talks about you a lot.”

Annie blinked.

“Oh, shit. I probably wasn’t supposed to say that—he doesn’t talk about you in a creepy or romantic way, I swear. He just really admires your, uh, intelligence? And work ethic?”

“…Oh,” said Annie. “Okay.”

Yes. She had noticed his attention. He glanced at her quite often, and she never got the sense that he had any romantic intentions—although she never could figure out why.

He admired her intelligence and work ethic, huh? That was certainly a much nicer reason than the ones she thought of.

“Yeah,” said Eren awkwardly. “So,” he said as he looked at the logo on the paper bag full of food, “you work here?”

He looked down at her rain-soaked shoes, at the splatters of water darkening her jeans that the umbrella didn’t protect against.

She nodded.

“Do you always work the night shift?”

“It pays more.”

“Eren,” said Levi as he came down the hall, “these pants aren’t fully dry. Do you want me—”

He looked up at Annie, stopping as he saw her. They were both surprised, but their faces remained blank, and Eren wondered how anyone managed to be so in control of their facial expressions all the time.

“Leonhart.”

“Hello, Professor.”

“You’re the food delivery… person.”

“Yeah,” she said. She looked at the boxers that had slipped from Levi’s grip, wondering if her professor liked sailboat-patterned undergarments or if it was Eren’s. “You dropped your underwear.”

“Right,” said Levi without a hint of embarrassment (what a feat, Eren thought). “Thank you.”

He bent down to pick them up as they were the daily newspaper and not Eren’s still-damp boxers.

Eren watched the exchange with fascination, wondering if Levi was blinking unusually frequently, or if the corner of Annie’s mouth was twitching slightly—it could’ve been a muscle spasm, or maybe she was annoyed, but he swore it was the same way Mikasa’s lips twitched when she was trying not to laugh in an inappropriate situation.

The hall was completely silent now, no one saying a word. What words were there to say? Was Annie supposed to ask why Levi was here with Eren? Was Levi supposed to explain it? Was it Eren’s job to clean up the awkwardness?

Before Eren could arrive at an answer, Levi cleared his throat and said, “Good job on that last exam. Very impressive.”

Eren had to hold his breath, because if he breathed he would erupt in laughter and there was no stopping him if he did that. His eyes shifted quickly to Annie, and he saw it—the corner of her mouth twitched for half a second, her jaw clenched.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost imperceptibly strained.

They stayed still and quiet until Annie was out of the hall and out of earshot before Eren let out the violent laughter that had been pushing against his lips, chasing Levi down the hall with cries of “Oh my  _god_ ,” while Levi clutched their wet clothes, retreating to the laundry room in teeth-gritting silence.

 

* * *

 

In the dark theatre, Hanji sat in her seat, slightly slumped and not paying much attention to the previews.

“I know I’m pushy,” she said, “but he needs it.”

“I know,” said Erwin.

“He’s so stagnant like this,” she said, her voice a little harder. Then it went soft, sighing as she said, “I think he’s mad at me.”

“He’s always mad at you.”

“I mean  _actually_ mad, not Levi Mad.”

Erwin smiled, placing a hand on her forearm and patting lightly. “Maybe. But it’s okay.”

“Do you he’d forgive me if I conceded on department fundings next week and let him have the money for his new chem equipment?”

“ _Hanji_ ,” said Erwin. “You don’t have control over that. It’s  _my_  decision, as well as the head of your department’s.”

“How about I give him  _most_ of the funding I was allotting for an Alcator C-Mod tokamak fusion reactor,” she said, tapping a finger against her chin.

“Hanji, we are  _not_ getting an Alcator C-Mod to—toka—something, fusion reactor.”

“But MIT has one!”

“It costs 200 million dollars!”

She cried in frustration, “Erwin, why won’t you let me  _dream_?”

The back of his head hit the seat, and he shook his head. “You can have it when our school is as prestigious as MIT. Until then, dream of something cheaper.”

“We’re pretty prestigious,” she said grudgingly.

“We don’t match MIT when it comes to atomic science, or physics, or any of our scientific fields,” said Erwin, refusing to say any more on the subject.

Hanji just kept muttering something about “so what if we’re not as good as MIT?” and “everyone deserves the fusion reactor of their hearts” and “going to quit and work at MIT, where they don’t let money ruin progress,” and Erwin just ate his popcorn, wondering if this film was going to be as good as the reviews said it was.

It was indeed every bit as good as he had read, and he walked out of the theatre a little awed, still reeling over the film the way he would at the end of a good book.

“Fantastic,” he said.

“What? It was terrible. I counted at least thirty-six inaccuracies and two minor plot holes.”

“What inaccuracies?”

“First: the men were described as ‘of average height’ by the newspaper, but they were all around six foot, which is much too tall for the average man in England in the mid-1800s. Second: those—don’t give me that look, Erwin. Things like that take you out of the movie.”

“It was wonderful regardless.”

“Levi would agree with me,” she said. “He’s meticulous, and—”

She stopped talking, remembering the way he had walked away from her, and her mouth relaxed into a straight line.

“I wonder if he’s home,” she said.

They sat on the brick planter, watching teenagers and couples walk in and out of the glowing theatre while they sat in the dark.

Hanji was rarely regretful, rarely worried about the way anyone felt about her, so Erwin was ready to let her sit for as long as she wanted.

She was about to say something else when her phone buzzed. Levi was calling.

He didn’t even say hello, only, “I’m at Eren’s house. We’re friends now. You can gloat later,” and Hanji let out a noise somewhere between a squeal and a cackle, the burden lifted from her heart.

“What is it?” said Erwin.

“Levi’s made a new friend,” she said, proud like a mother, and Erwin understood instantly.

 

* * *

 

Eren kept staring at him as they sat on the floor in front of the television, smiling like an idiot instead of watching.

“What?” said Levi, annoyed.

“You called me your friend,” he said, moving his head side to side in giddiness.

Levi was silent, eyes on the TV screen and refusing to look at him. “So what?”

“Friend!” Eren cried, throwing his arms around Levi's shoulders, and Levi realized with wide-eyed horror that he had acquired another Hanji in his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY'RE FRIENDS :')
> 
> I feel like I'm incapable of writing an ereri fic where they don't get chapters of building their friendship ~_~;; Which I guess isn't a terrible thing, but I have to tell you that I really really like writing them being important to each other and falling for each other slowly and just being great friends before we get to the smooching.
> 
> But there'll be smooching. I promise.
> 
> (I also really really like writing irrelevant scenes about university shenanigans and other stuff about Armin and Mikasa that doesn't matter to Levi and Eren's romance, and I've got no excuse for that except for that it's fun for me. I am deeply sorry. But I probably won't stop. I have to warn you now.)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and also sorry for the long update time ;A;


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